


dust off your highest hopes

by platinum_firebird



Category: Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Adventure & Romance, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Post-Canon, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Kidnapping, M/M, Mild Gore, Original Character Death(s), Politics
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-15
Updated: 2019-12-15
Packaged: 2021-02-26 03:00:38
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 33,084
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21616477
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/platinum_firebird/pseuds/platinum_firebird
Summary: “It's wrong what they say about the past, I've learned, about how you can bury it. Because the past claws its way out.”Mitaka thought he'd left his past in the First Order far behind him - but it turns out the past always has a way of catching up.
Relationships: Finn/Dopheld Mitaka
Comments: 5
Kudos: 14
Collections: Star Wars Rare Pairs Exchange 2019





	dust off your highest hopes

**Author's Note:**

  * For [TheKinkAwakens (thekinkawakens)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/thekinkawakens/gifts).



> This got incredibly long and I don't know how. Plot overtook it!
> 
> The archive warning for gore is applicable to one event at the beginning of the fic; otherwise there's not much gore or other squicky/triggery content.

Mitaka was halfway through checking Phinx’s latest set of equations for their new hyperdrive design when he heard the uncomfortably familiar _rap-a-rap rap-rap rap-a-rap_ pattern of knuckles on glass. He looked up slowly, silently praying that it wouldn’t be who he thought it was - but there he was, staring in through the glass door of his office, ghoulish grin firmly in place. Rye Baxom, possibly the most obnoxious man Mitaka had ever met - and that was saying a lot, considering who he used to work for. Reluctantly Mitaka raised a hand and motioned for him to come inside.

Baxom strolled into the office with all the ease of an old friend paying a casual visit, but Mitaka didn’t miss the way his eyes darted everywhere, or how he was careful to firmly shut the door behind him. He dropped into the chair across the desk and regarded Mitaka with his usual sickly smile. It might have been just his imagination, but something about that hateful expression seemed forced today - as if whatever was on Baxom’s mind was serious enough to ruffle even his oil-slicked feathers.

“Mitaka,” Baxom said in greeting, “The job’s going well, right? I hear the _Aspiration_ is almost ready to launch.”

Mitaka really wished Baxom would get to the point, but expressing that would only make him spend more time on small talk. “She’s passed space trials,” he says stiffly.

“That sounds real good,” Baxom said, and now Mitaka _knew_ something was bothering him. He had never, not in all the long conversations they’d had with each other, sounded quite so ill at ease. He’d been trained so well that Mitaka doubted anyone unfamiliar with him would notice; but he and Baxom had spent hours together, just the two of them trapped in a room, their conversations going back and forth and back and forth until Mitaka could pick up even the slightest change in his demeanour. He was bothered by something. In another man, Mitaka might have said he was worried.

He couldn’t help but ask, “What’s wrong, Baxom?”

Baxom raised an eyebrow. “Who says anything’s wrong?”

“The Accords were signed two years ago, and we’ve barely heard a thing from the First Order since then,” Mitaka said, “Which makes me question why you would need your First Order informant all of a sudden.”

For a moment Baxom just looked at him, blank-faced; then he sighed and gave in. “Fine. Yes, there’s something wrong, and I need some info from you, if you have it.”

“Ask away,” Mitaka said.

Baxom shook his head. “Not here. This is high-level stuff; of a security level you don’t have clearance for, actually, but Matsgoa’s making an exception. So I need you to come back to HQ with me.”

Mitaka barely stopped himself from groaning. “It can’t wait until after work?”

“This needs to be ASAP. I’ve already cleared it with your boss.”

Mitaka heaved a heavy sigh, then sent his holotablet and workstation to sleep and gathered up his things. Baxom watched silently from his chair, then escorted him down through the levels of the KDY Design Building to the speeder garage, where his sleek, nondescript vehicle waited. “Is this going to take the rest of the day?” Mitaka asked as they climbed in.

“Rest of your working day, I’d guess. You might make it home for dinner, depending on what information you can give us.” Baxom plastered his unsettling grin back over his face. “You got someone waiting at home?”

“Since I know you monitor me night and day, I know you know the answer to that question.”

“Just trying to make small talk.” Baxom pulled the speeder out of the garage and into the flow of traffic on the speedway that followed the Kuat Station’s circular shape. After a moment of uncomfortable silence he said, “Mind if I put the radio on?”

“Be my guest.”

Baxom flicked through a few channels before settling on Kuat Sunshine FM, grinning as he hummed along to the tune. It was the same song Mitaka’s youngest work colleague had been playing repeatedly in her office, the newest bright pop tune from some Coruscanti starlet. Mitaka turned to look out of the window, watching the edges of the speedway race by.

“Gerda loves this trash, y’know,” Baxom said after a minute.

It took Mitaka a moment to remember that Gerda was the name of Baxom’s latest secretary. “She’s still working for you?”

“Oh, yeah. She still asks after you all the time, y’know. I think she-”

Mitaka heard the smash of broken glass, and something wet splattered his face and jacket. Next second the speeder was out of control, jinking and swerving across the speedway into the lane of oncoming traffic. Instinctively Mitaka let his old military training take over, grabbing the wheel and pulling them back to the correct side before engaging the emergency brake, a lever that killed the engine and sent them into a quick but controlled plunge to the floor of the speedway, below the rush of traffic.

Only then did he turn to see Baxom. There was a sickening splatter of red where the left side of his head had once been, his one remaining eye staring and lifeless, and Mitaka realised with a sick lurch that the splattering of liquid he’d felt had been Baxom’s blood. He’d been shot - probably sniped by someone who’d snuck onto one of the maintenance catwalks at the side of the speedway.

 _You’re still in danger_ , a little voice in his head hissed. Whoever had killed Baxom might want them both dead, or might want to tie up loose ends - which meant he had to get out of here, right now.

He no longer carried a blaster, but Baxom would have one; trying not to look at the blood, Mitaka reached inside his jacket and instantly found the blaster, concealed in a shoulder holster. The weight felt comforting in his palm, giving him the confidence to open the speeder door and slip out onto the fermacrete. A quick glance around showed no one nearby, and above his head was only the relentless rush of traffic. Cautiously Mitaka looked up over the speeder’s roof, but there was no one approaching from the other side of the speedway. He crouched back down into cover, his mind racing. It wouldn’t be long before either the maintenance cameras picked up the downed speeder or a passing driver called the authorities; then the station police would arrive, and whoever had killed Baxom would have no chance of getting to him or killing Mitaka. That meant if the killer was coming, they’d come soon, and Mitaka would be a sitting duck out here with only the speeder for cover. But there weren’t many pedestrian entrances to the speedway, and all of them would be inoperable without the proper cardkey, which meant his chances of getting away and out into the inhabited areas of the station were pretty much nil. So there lay the question; was he better off making for one of the maintenance entrances and trying to hide, or staying with the speeder and using it as cover to fight off Baxom’s attacker until the police arrived?

In another second the decision was made for him. He watched with a sinking heart as a speeder dropped down below the traffic about a hundred metres away, making right for him. Still crouching, he slipped round behind the front of the downed speeder, putting it between him and the oncoming enemy, and raised his blaster. He could feel his heart beating an unsteady, anxious rhythm in his chest. He’d been trained well at the First Order’s Academy, but he’d never actually seen serious combat, and he’d spent the last five years sitting behind a desk at KDY. He knew all the correct moves, but had none of the experience.

He risked poking his head out to see the speeder coming in for a landing, and counted three people inside. Not good odds. He ducked back again, trying to take long, calming breaths, already feeling his hands begin to shake. He had the sudden thought that he should call his mother, though given that she had disowned him when he defected from the First Order, he was probably the last person she wanted to hear from. It was a sad reflection on his life that the only other person he could think to call, the only other person who might care, was his boss.

Mitaka heard a voice call out to him from beyond the downed speeder. “Come out with your hands up!”

 _Yeah, sure_ , Mitaka thought, the image of Baxom’s body flashing through his mind. He took a steadier grip on his blaster.

“We’re just here to ask you a few questions,” the voice went on, “No need to be afraid.”

Mitaka’s mind raced, turning the words over and over. Questions? The only thing he knew about was starship design - were these guys from a rival company? Was Sienar hiring bounty hunters now?

 _No, you idiot_ , he admonished himself. _These guys are here for the same thing Baxom wanted; information about the First Order._

For a moment Mitaka hesitated. All they wanted was information; maybe if he gave it to them-

 _Yeah, and then they’d put a blaster bolt through your head just like Baxom. Wake_ up _, Mitaka._

“We’re coming round,” the voice said, closer now, “Don’t shoot, okay? We only want to talk.”

Mitaka’s hand tightened on his blaster, fully intent on shooting the first person who came in sight round the speeder. If he could take one by surprise, then pop out and get the other one, it would be even odds, and he might have a chance at getting away. Even in his mind the idea sounded ridiculous, but just lying down and allowing himself to be captured wasn’t an option he could contemplate.

He heard the crunch of boots and a rustle of fabric, raised his blaster-

Something hit him square in the back, and the world went dark.

/

He woke to darkness, the low background hum of starship engines and life support systems, and the sick groggy headache characteristic of having been hit with a stun blast.

 _This really is a new low for you,_ he thought, pressing his fingers to his temples in a futile attempt to alleviate the pain. _Kidnapped by…_ The word ‘brigands’ jumped into his head, which was exactly the kind of old-fashioned, stuffy word his father would have used. Mitaka mentally substituted the word ‘criminals’, which was both accurate and made him sound less like a sixty year old.

Really, _who_ his attackers were made very little difference to him; what mattered was what they wanted from him.

He estimated about three hours passed before the door to the room finally opened. It illuminated what looked like a standard crew cabin, probably on a small freighter or passenger ship of some kind. The woman who walked in switched the lights onto full, leaving Mitaka blinking while she came and stood next to the bed. “Sleep well?” she asked, her accent easily identifiable as coming from somewhere in the Outer Rim.

“Fine,” Mitaka said shortly, raising a hand to wipe his eyes. Now he could look at her without squinting, he found himself reassessing his earlier assumption. The woman wore ill-fitting, mismatched clothing that looked like she’d pulled it out of a one credit sale bin and then gone on a camping trip through a swamp without a sleeping bag. She clearly hadn’t seen the inside of a fresher for days, maybe weeks. Glancing around, Mitaka took in the details of the room, and even from here it was obvious that the ship was old and battered.

These were either the poorest of criminals, or they weren’t in it for the credits - some kind of revolutionaries or ‘freedom fighters’.

Worse, they might be members of the Resistance.

“You hurt?” the woman asked. Her tone was brusque, as if she didn’t particularly care.

“No,” Mitaka said, adding _No thanks to you_ only in his head.

“Good.” The woman reached down and grabbed his arm. “Then you’re coming with me.”

“Wait a minute-”

A blaster appeared in her hand, and the way she pressed it into the side of his abdomen rather removed the need for words. She escorted him at blasterpoint out of the room, and down a curved corridor and out into a cargo hold. The room, which on any normal freighter would have been stuffed up to the ceiling with shipping containers, instead boasted only a few sad crates in one corner, and a dilapidated old speederbike in the other.

At the centre of the room were three figures; a Nikto, a Selonian, and a human man. The woman frogmarched him up to the them, then pushed him down by the shoulder until he was on his knees.

For a moment no one spoke. Mitaka made an intent study of the man’s boots, not daring to speak or lift his head to look the man in the eye.

“Nothing to say for yourself?” the man asked eventually.

Mitaka glanced up at him quickly. “I… I was rather hoping you might tell me why you kidnapped me.”

“Regrettably,” the man said, drawing the word out into a drawl, “we have need of you.”

 _Why ‘regrettably’?_ Mitaka thought, but he stayed silent.

“Don’t mistake me,” the man hissed, “If I could afford to toss you out that airlock, I would. Your crimes would more than justify it.” He began to pace, and there was agitation under the aura of calm he was trying to fake. Mitaka could feel his hands shaking. “But for now we have need of you, so remember that your _compliance_ is the only thing that will keep you alive. Understand?”

Mitaka nodded. All of a sudden the man got down on one knee, right in his face, glaring at him with dark eyes. He was close enough that Mitaka noticed the faint line of a scar running across his jaw. “I would enjoy tossing you, First Order scum,” he whispered. “Don’t think I wouldn’t. So you’d better behave.”

“What-” Mitaka stopped to clear his throat, to banish the scared little wavering squeak. “What do you need me to do?”

As quickly as he’d come the man rose and stalked away to the other side of the cargo hold, making an expansive gesture with one hand.

The woman pulled him up by the arm and marched him back to the tiny little cabin, pushed him onto the bed, and then pulled a piece of flimsi and a stylus from her pockets and handed them to him. “Make a list of every First Order bolthole or secret hideout or fortress or anything else you can think of. Everything, you understand? No matter how small or insignificant.”

Mitaka took them and nodded, understanding that this probably wasn’t the moment to ask why. The woman turned on her heel and left, and from the _thunk_ that echoed after the door closed, Mitaka assumed she’d locked it behind her.

He had to sit still for a moment, clasping his hands together to try and make them stop shaking, forcing himself to breathe deep and slow. _You’ll be alright. Just do what they say and you’ll be alright._ Back at the Academy they’d run training drills involving fake captivity scenarios, and as the fog of panic lifted from his brain, the instructions started to come back. Unfortunately half of them involved how to surreptitiously eat the cyanide pill that had once been hidden in his mouth; now there was only a hole where the fake tooth had once been. Other things, though, would be more useful, like working out how many enemies he was dealing with, memorising their guard schedule, or looking for weaknesses in his captors.

For now, though, he was trapped here - and he’d been given an instruction. He looked down at the items in his hands, his mind racing. _A list of First Order boltholes and hideouts_. The clear conclusion to draw from that was that they were looking for someone, and that they’d been bold enough to kidnap him in the middle of the day from a busy spacestation suggested it was a high level target. With Hux languishing in jail since the signing of the Accords, Mitaka could only presume they were going after Kylo Ren.

_But why now?_

That was the sticking point. Ren had been on the run for over two years, so why had these people chosen _now_ to kidnap Mitaka and threaten him for information? It had to be connected to why Baxom had suddenly appeared after six months of no contact. Mitaka wished the RIB agent had mentioned even _something_ about what he was pulling Mitaka in for before he’d died.

But speculation was useless at the moment. The reality of the situation was that these people would certainly torture him if he didn’t give them this information - in fact they might kill him even if he did. _But the latter is only a ‘might’, while the former is a certainty_. Picking up the stylus, Mitaka got to work.

He’d put together a decent list by the time the woman returned. She scanned her eyes over it, nodded, and said, “Anything else?”

“Not that I remember,” Mitaka said. When the woman nodded and turned back to the door, Mitaka hurriedly added, “You couldn’t get me some food, could you? Or water?”

“No point wasting it on you, First Order,” the woman laughed. The door thudded shut behind her, and then the lights went out, leaving Mitaka to glare fruitlessly into the darkness.

/

Mitaka woke again in darkness, curled up on the hard bunk in the shabby little crew cabin on this unknown ship. He wasn’t sure if the cold or the painful pangs of hunger in his stomach had woken him; he was trying to tuck the thin blanket closer in around him when he suddenly heard hissing voices outside the door. He froze, listening. They weren’t loud enough for him to make out words; there seemed to be two speakers, possibly a man and a woman, talking in almost-whispers as if they feared being overheard. After a second they fell quiet - and then the door opened.

Mitaka, blinking in the sudden light, couldn’t make out much more than that two distinct figures entered before the door shut again and the room was plunged back into darkness. “Hello?”

A hand touched his arm. “We’re going to get you out of here,” a male voice whispered.

Mitaka’s chest flooded with momentary relief that just as quickly curdled to anxiety. The identity of these two was a complete mystery - and they could be leading him into just more danger.

“Who are you?” he demanded.

“We’re here to save you from people who’re going to punt you out the airlock in about two hours. Do you need more introduction than that?” asked a second voice - a woman, and she sounded irritated. “Come on, they’ll only be out for ten minutes, max. Let’s make this quick.”

Still Mitaka hesitated, resisting when someone pulled on his arm. These two were strangers - he couldn’t even see their faces.

But the man from before had threatened to put him out the airlock - had seemed to relish the idea, in fact. Remembering the manic light in his eyes, the unseen woman’s claim that his captors would be disposing of him so callously seemed all too plausible. _And going with them is better than dying._

“We really are here to help,” the man’s voice said, much calmer, clearly trying to be soothing.

“Fine, I’m coming,” Mitaka said, rising from the bed. “What do we need to do?”

“Our ship is docked at the portside airlock,” the man’s voice said. “It’s just round the main corridor.”

“I spiked their evening meal, but they won’t be out long, so we need to make this quick,” the woman said.

“It’s probably best we keep quiet, just in case,” the man added.

Mitaka nodded before remembering it was pitch black. “Got it.”

“Good. Then let’s go.” He heard footsteps, then a pause. Then the door to the room slid open, and the woman’s figure darted out into the corridor. Mitaka followed, hearing the soft footsteps as the man brought up the rear.

The main corridor of the ship was just as decrepit and worn as the crew cabin, with exposed pipework everywhere and wires and tubes hanging from the ceiling and sprawling over the floor. Mitaka picked his way carefully through the mess, barely daring to breathe. The woman moved slowly forward ahead of him. She was human and very short, barely chest height on him, with black hair and a dark green jumpsuit.

It was only about twenty metres to the airlock, though it felt like a mile-long run to Mitaka. The woman eased the mechanism open, and there was a hiss as the lock disengaged before it swung open silently. The woman motioned him through, and after a moment’s hesitation Mitaka climbed out into the docking tube. He heard the other two stop to talk, but he didn’t wait for them; he hated spending any more time than was necessary in cramped white tubes. He’d never felt entirely safe when moving from ship to ship in them, uncomfortably aware of the fact that only a thin layer of stiff toughened fabric/plastic mix kept him shielded from the deadly vacuum outside. He began to jog down the tube, eager to reach the other side.

He expected someone to be waiting when he reached the other side, but his only companion in the new ship’s airlock was a rusty, bulky silver protocol droid, which bowed to him when he stepped inside. “Greetings, Master Mitaka,” it said, it’s voice cheerful and, to Mitaka’s ear, probably female. “I am X3-E200, though I prefer to be known as XE. Welcome to the Resistance vessel _Helios_. Please do not attempt to touch anything.”

Mitaka blinked. “Resistance vessel? As in _the_ Resistance?”

“Yes,” XE said impassively. Mitaka noted that she was standing right by the airlock controls, and would be able to block him if he made a move toward them. _Which is why the others - the_ Resistance members _\- felt safe enough to let me come over here alone._ He hadn’t even been thinking about breaking this ship off from the other and making a run for it, which said a lot about how switched on his brain was right now.

He heard feet hit the deck behind him and turned. The other man had come through the docking tube, and as he straightened up and looked at him, Mitaka realised with a shock that his was a face he recognised. A face he had seen on news reports about the Resistance; a face that had adorned the Wanted posters Phasma had demanded be plastered all over every First Order-held territory, ship and base.

The rebel stormtrooper, FN-2187.

Mitaka stared at him, and FN-2187 stared back, his expression wary. “We’re getting out of here,” he said. “XE, disengage the docking tube.”

“What about the woman?” Mitaka blurted, moving further into the corridor as the droid bustled to follow FN-2187’s instructions.

“She’s staying.”

Mitaka frowned. “She betrayed them?”

“She’s our mole on their team,” FN-2187 said shortly. “Come on; we need to get out of here.” He brushed past, heading for the cockpit. Mitaka hesitated for a moment, watching as the droid sealed the airlock, and then followed.

FN-2187 was nowhere to be seen when Mitaka entered the hub corridor. He followed it around clockwise, passing the galley and crew lounge before coming to a corridor that led forward. It ended in the cockpit, where FN-2187 had already taken the pilot’s seat and started fiddling with the controls. “I’m Mitaka, by the way,” Mitaka said as he sat down. A second later he felt like a fool; if he was being abducted, surely his kidnappers knew who he was.

FN-2187 didn’t call him on it. “I’m Finn,” he said, his attention mostly focused on the readouts in front of him. He flicked open the internal comm channel and said, “We clear to move off, XE?”

“We are fully disengaged from the other ship,” XE confirmed.

“Good.” Finn spun the _Helios_ quickly away from the other vessel and picked up speed, angling to get them out of the other ship’s weapons range as fast as possible.

Mitaka scanned the co-pilot’s controls, confirming the operation and function of each one. He’d flown ships of this size for the First Order, mostly shuttles to ferry various higher-ranked officers about, and the general layout of the controls was familiar. “Shall I program the hyperdrive?” he asked.

Finn gave him a suspicious sideways glance. “XE can do that,” he said tightly.

Mitaka raised an eyebrow. “I’m not going to send us anywhere dangerous. Technically we’re both working against the First Order.”

Finn looked like he bit back a sharp retort at that. He seemed to wrestle with the idea for a few seconds before saying, “Send us somewhere close by. Uninhabited, and Rimward, if possible.”

“I’ll be limited by the astrogation chart, but I’ll do my best,” Mitaka said sardonically, then turned to the navicomputer.

From the look of it, his previous kidnappers had crossed almost the entirety of the Colonies and the Inner Rim while he’d been their prisoner, which now left them somewhere near Onderon and the border with the Expansion Region. That meant there was a convenient void of uninhabited space just Rimward of them, so Mitaka picked one of the uninhabited systems out there and punched it into the navicomputer. “Destination primed,” he said, “And perfectly fulfilling the brief, if I do say so myself.”

“Where?” Finn asked. His face seemed to relax just the tiniest bit when Mitaka told him, but he still hesitated before pulling down the hyperspace lever.

“This direction, we’ll be going _away_ from the First Order,” Mitaka pointed out, “And I don’t really have any reason to go there, do I? Or to endanger the ship.”

“Fair enough,” Finn said, and pulled down the lever. The starlines lengthened, and then they were safely in hyperspace.

“The trip will take two hours at most,” Mitaka said. He turned to face Finn. “So. Perhaps you’d mind telling me why I’ve been kidnapped twice in the last twenty four hours, and what you intend to do with me?”

At that Finn looked surprised. “You don’t know?”

“My previous captors weren’t very forthcoming,” Mitaka said dryly. “They threatened to throw me out the airlock if I didn’t give them a list of First Order boltholes and hiding places. I assume they’re looking for someone. My guess was Ren - have there been new leads?”

“I wish,” Finn said, his face grim. “It’s worse than that. About a week ago, a team of First Order agents broke Hux out of prison.”

That made Mitaka sit up and take notice. “ _What?_ ”

Finn nodded. “They clearly had intel from someone who knew the place well, or someone helping them from the inside. Maybe both.”

That one piece of information made everything click into place. He had been Hux’s closest aide for years; if anyone had the inside scoop on where he’d run, it would be Mitaka. That was why Baxom had come to get him, and why he’d been so reluctant to talk about it outside the RIB offices. “I take it the New Republic are suppressing the news?” he said. It wasn’t much of a question - it would have been headline news all week if even one journalist had got hold of it - but he didn’t know what else to say.

Finn nodded. “Obviously.”

“So how do _you_ know about it?”

“We have our ways,” Finn said cryptically, which was pretty much tantamount to admitting that the Resistance had a mole somewhere in the RIB or the New Republic Senate. Which, given how they always seemed to stay one step ahead of the RIB agents trying to disband the movement, made perfect sense.

“That’s why she was asking me to make that list,” Mitaka said. He pinched the bridge of his nose, feeling a headache coming on. “Do your secret ways allow you to know where the New Republic have already searched? I’ve given them quite a few tips on various First Order locations in the past few years.”

“Yeah, I’ve got a rough list,” Finn said, “I was thinking we could see if there’s anywhere you know of that they haven’t looked yet.”

“That’s all you want me for? Information?”

Finn nodded. “More or less.”

“And what happens when I’ve given you this information?”

“We use it to track down Hux.”

Mitaka rolled his eyes. “No, I mean what happens to _me_.”

“We’ll keep you safe,” Finn said immediately. “We’ll keep you with us until we find Hux.”

Mitaka raised his eyebrows. “If Hux isn’t hiding in any of the places I know of - or if he’s gone somewhere new - then I won’t be much help.”

“Our contact said you’d be the key to finding him, and she’s never been wrong before,” Finn said stubbornly.

“Your contact?” Finn nodded. “Did she say _why_ I was the key to finding him?”

Finn shrugged. “No. She doesn’t usually explain herself very much. She tells you things, you do them, and then it turns out she was right. That’s why we wanted to get you to help us - but the others got to you first.”

“And they killed the RIB agent who was escorting me,” Mitaka said sharply, feeling again the sting of Baxom’s death.

Finn winced. “I’m sorry.”

“Just tell me who they are,” Mitaka said flatly.

Finn’s lips twisted, an air of unhappy embarrassment coming over him. “They’re…well, they used to be Resistance members, and they still call themselves that, although our branch of the Resistance has cut them off from our operation.”

“I had heard the Resistance was splitting off into factions.”

The unhappiness on Finn’s face only increased. “Yeah. There was a big split when the Accords got signed; some people thought that proved the New Republic was as bad as the First Order, and we should oppose both of them. More groups have split off since General Organa went missing.”

“Yes, that was headline news in the Republic. There are still no leads?”

“Nothing,” Finn said, looking desolate. Mitaka felt an unexpected surge of sympathy for him; clearly Leia Organa had meant a lot to Finn.

“Well, maybe she-” Then Mitaka stopped, a cold, ugly thought forming in his mind. “Wait. You said the team who broke Hux out had inside knowledge of the prison?” Finn nodded. “Didn’t General Organa _personally_ oversee the refurbishment project of The Citadel for the Senate?”

The blood drained from Finn’s face. “She did,” he said in a small voice. Clearly he understood Mitaka’s implication.

“Well. That explains how they broke him out of the highest security prison in the Republic, at least,” Mitaka said.

“She’d never have helped them,” Finn said, suddenly fierce. “She’d never have told them _anything_.”

“She wouldn’t have had to. Kylo Ren can read minds - I don’t know how, but we all knew he could.”

If possible, Finn just looked even more angry. “I know,” he said tightly. “He did it to one of my friends.”

“Ah.” Mitaka looked away, not sure what to say. He’d seen what Ren’s victims were like in the aftermath of one of his ‘sessions’. “Er, I’m sorry.”

He heard Finn take a deep breath. “It’s a lead,” he said, clearly trying to keep his voice from breaking. “It’s more than we had before. I’ll take it.”

Mitaka kept quiet, giving him a moment. After a minute, Finn said, “It’s not our mission. We have to focus on finding Hux.”

“Right,” Mitaka said, nodding. “Maybe General Organa will be with him, wherever he is.” Then he stopped. “Wait. I didn’t agree to help you yet.”

Finn blinked at him. “You don’t want to help get Hux back in jail?”

“Of course I do - but I’d prefer to do it from a _distance_. From what I’ve heard, that’s not really the Resistance’s style.”

“All we’re asking for is information,” Finn said.

“And I don’t mind giving it to you. I just want to be dropped back on Kuat afterward.”

“And you will be. _After_ we find Hux.” Finn held up a hand to forestall his protests. “If we take you back to Kuat, the Republic will instantly take you into custody, and we won’t be able to get to you. And since you’re apparently the key to finding Hux…”

“Maybe I _want_ to be in the Republic’s custody rather than yours, had you thought of that?” Mitaka snapped. “You know they could probably arrest me for aiding you?”

“In that case I’d tell them you were my prisoner. They only arrest people who _willing_ aid the Resistance,” Finn said, a hint of bitterness creeping into his tone.

“I’m sure they could interpret my help as _willing_ if they were so inclined.”

Finn blew out an exasperated breath. “Look, I don’t _want_ to take you as a prisoner, but I _do_ have to take you in and get the information out of you. I’d prefer it if we could just strike a deal.”

Mitaka tilted his head. “What kind of deal?”

“You give us information and help us capture Hux, and we’ll keep you safe. Then in the end, we return you to Kuat.”

“Keep me safe where?” Mitaka demanded.

“The Resistance base in the Outer Rim. You’ll be perfectly safe there, trust me.”

“Seeing as the First Order is constantly searching for your base in order to blow it up, I doubt that,” Mitaka said.

“We’ll be deep in Republic territory, far away from the First Order. It’s safe.”

Mitaka was silent a moment as he thought about it. _It doesn’t seem like I have much choice. Again_. “So my options are going to the Resistance base comfortably as your accomplice and informant, or going there as your prisoner?” he asked eventually.

Finn scratched the back of his neck, his expression uncomfortable. “That’s about it, yeah.”

Mitaka jumped as a mechanical voice suddenly spoke behind him. “I will have no problem restraining you if you decide to become hostile, Mr Mitaka,” XE said. Her electronic voice was ghoulishly cheery, but her half-lit form in the cockpit doorway as Mitaka looked back over his shoulder was unmistakably menacing.

Finn winced. “Don’t threaten him, XE.”

“I am charged with protecting this vessel and any Resistance members aboard from…outside threats,” XE said, her glowing blue eyes fixed on Mitaka.

“I guess that solves that argument,” Mitaka said, trying not to show how much the droid unnerved him.

“Listen-” Finn started.

Mitaka held up a hand to stop him. “You’re going to take me to this Resistance base one way or the other, so I’d rather go without being a captive. Just make sure no one tries to force me onto some dangerous mission while I’m there, and I’ll give you whatever information you want.”

“Deal. And I’ll take you back to Kuat personally when we’re done.” Finn held out a hand, and after suppressing the urge to laugh at his earnest expression, Mitaka shook his hand. “Thanks,” Finn said, sounding relieved, “I was hoping you’d agree to work with us.”

Mitaka felt his lips pull into a humourless smile. “This is about the _only_ circumstance where I’d take the risk to help you. Seeing Hux thrown in jail was just about the only thing that softened the blow, when we signed the Accords.”

Finn looked like he wanted to ask a question, but after a second he seemed to decide against it. “Shall we get started on the information exchange?” he asked.

Mitaka nodded. “No time like the present.”

Finn nodded back toward the crew lounge. “Might be more comfortable back there.”

Mitaka eyed the door, but XE had disappeared. “Alright.”

Finn got up and led the way back to the crew lounge. Properly looking around the space for the first time, Mitaka saw that it was quite luxurious for this model of ship; it held a galley, a dining table and chairs, and a comfortable couch surrounding a table, one end of which held an integrated holographic dejarik board.

Finn drew one of the dining chairs up to the table and sat down across from where Mitaka took a seat on the couch. “I’ve got the list of locations the Republic have already crossed off right here,” he said, handing it over.

Mitaka felt his heart sink as he read the names. “This encompasses most of the places I’d think to look,” he said once he’d read it.

Finn’s mouth twisted. “There’s nowhere else?”

“I did say ‘most of’,” Mitaka pointed out. “There are a few other places - the Republic knows about them, but they might not have thought to look.”

Finn held up a finger to stall him while he took out a datapad and switched it on, then said, “Alright, hit me with the list.”

Mitaka told him. It was pitiful, really; only five names graced Finn’s list by the time all was said and done. Even he looked rather put out as he stared down at it. “That’s it?” he asked.

“Yes. As I said, the New Republic have searched most of the places I already knew about - and it’s been five years since I left the First Order. They may have found any number of new hiding places in that time.”

Finn let out a heavy sigh. “Right. Well, they’re worth a look, anyway. I’ll go comm the others and let them know.” He stood up, then paused. “Er…you can get some food or a drink or something, if you’d like.”

Reminded of food, Mitaka was suddenly aware of how empty and painful his stomach felt. “I’ll do that,” he said, also standing. “I haven’t eaten anything since lunch at my office…yesterday, I suppose it must have been.”

“Wow. Okay, definitely eat. I’ll be in the cockpit.” Finn left, and Mitaka set about exploring the cupboards in the galley. There was little in the way of food besides dry-frozen ration packs, and the memory of their taste made Mitaka physically cringe; but he managed to make something that looked at least somewhat edible. He was halfway through his meal by the time Finn came back.

“They’re scrambling teams to go check out those locations now,” Finn said, collapsing into the chair opposite Mitaka. “And they’ve agreed you can stay at the Resistance base.”

“I don’t suppose you can tell me where it is, though?” Mitaka said.

Finn shook his head. “It’ll all be top secret. No leaving the base, restricting who you talk to, that sort of thing.”

“Blindfolds?” Mitaka asked with a raised eyebrow.

Finn spluttered out a surprised laugh. “I don’t think they’ll go that far.”

“Good to know.” Mitaka looked back down at his meal, and both of them fell silent for a little while.

“Listen…” Finn started, then trailed off. When Mitaka looked up at him, he was fiddling with his cuffs and avoiding eye contact. “I… I hope you don’t think this is weird, but I… I used to see you, sometimes. Around. On the _Finalizer_.”

Mitaka nodded slowly. He could not say the same of Finn - Phasma aside, he’d never been able to tell individual stormtroopers apart - but he certainly knew who Finn was. “Your likeness was spread far and wide after your escape,” he said.

“Yeah. I saw the Wanted posters.” Finn lifted his head and looked at him. “I just… I wonder why you did it.”

Mitaka tilted his head. “Left the First Order?”

“Yeah. I’ve only met two or three other defectors, and none of them were… chatty.”

“It could be considered quite personal information. Most people probably aren’t that eager to share - or relive the experience.”

Anyone else would’ve taken that as a polite warning to back off, but Finn just kept staring at him. “You don’t have to tell me,” he said after a moment, a reluctant admission that he was prying. _But I want you to_ went unspoken.

Mitaka sighed, and considered telling Finn to just mind his own business. Then again, the only other person who knew about this was Baxom, and now he was dead. “Fine,” he said, “I’ll tell you.”

Looking at Finn’s suddenly eager expression, Mitaka would have loved to be able to tell him he left for noble, idealistic reasons; he thought Finn might even believe him, if he tried to lie. But something about Finn’s open honesty and eagerness made the idea of it repugnant, so he stuck to the truth. “Let’s just say there are only so many times you can listen to your commanding officers argue over the very pettiest of things before you start wondering if your life might be better spent somewhere else.”

Finn blinked. “That’s it?”

“Not very glamorous, I admit, but I think if I’d had to listen to them argue about whose fault the latest engineering delay was one more time, I would have lost my mind.” Mitaka regarded Finn in silence for a moment, hesitating, and then decided to plunge ahead. After all, Finn had been in the First Order - he’d understand better than anyone else. “My parents gave me to the First Order’s Academy when I was ten. Throughout our training, they made us think we were going to do something great. We were going to change the galaxy, and for the better.” Mitaka snorted and shook his head. “Several years getting up close and personal with the Order’s _glorious leaders_ disabused me of that notion pretty thoroughly.”

Finn was nodding slowly, but a slight frown creased his brow. “But you didn’t join the Resistance.”

Mitaka paused, wondering how to word it sensitively. “The Resistance is for people who… people who really believe. If you can’t tell, I’ve got a little jaded about the whole thing.” Mitaka shrugged. “I could have used my inside knowledge of the First Order as an in with either the Resistance or the New Republic, but I figured I had more chance of getting set up somewhere away from the action if I went with the Republic. They were still scrambling to recover after the Hosnian Disaster at that point, so they welcomed me with open arms.”

“So you sold them your information about the First Order, and they rewarded you with the position at KDY,” Finn said.

“You don’t have to sound so disapproving. The information I provided gave them direct advantages over the First Order - probably helped them get First Order High Command to the negotiating table for the Accords, as well.” He almost smiled at Finn’s expression. “Sorry, I forget none of you Resistance types agree with the Accords.”

“And you do?” Finn demanded. “You agree with giving up worlds and peoples to the First Order?”

“No,” Mitaka said carefully, “But the Republic took a big hit at Hosnian, and three years of war afterward didn’t help. They’ve used the peace the Accords brought to rebuild, so they’ll be ready to face the First Order again - trust me, I should know. I’m the one designing their warships.”

Finn blinked. “They’re building warships? Against the stipulations in the Accords?”

“You think the First Order’s respecting those stipulations?”

“We know they’re not,” Finn said, his voice going dark. “We just didn’t think… we didn’t know the Republic wasn’t respecting them either.” The ghost of a smile flitted over his face. “That’s kind of a relief, actually.”

“That the Republic isn’t as stupid as you thought?” Mitaka asked dryly.

“I’m not saying they’re stupid,” Finn protested, “Just that they sometimes seem… bogged down in all the petty little things that don’t matter.”

“Like democracy?” Mitaka asked with a raised eyebrow.

Finn gave him a look. “Whatever you’ve heard, the Resistance was never General Organa’s private army.”

“I know - though I think some in the New Republic would have preferred it that way, if that would have prevented the fracturing the Resistance is going through now. There’s still a lot of respect for Leia Organa, in all circles. That’s the reason the Resistance aren’t more widely regarded as-”

Mitaka cut himself off, but Finn supplied the exact word he’d been about to say. “Terrorists?” he said, the bitter tone returning to his voice.

“Only _some_ people regard you as that,” Mitaka said, wincing as he realised he’d touched a nerve. “But the Republic has never officially declared you enemies of the state-”

“They may as well have done,” Finn snapped.

After a moment of awkward silence Mitaka said, “I can understand how you feel about them, trust me. But the New Republic isn’t ignoring the threat of the First Order - they just needed some time to regroup and lick their wounds. Fighting a war is a big task, for anybody.” He smiled apologetically. “But you’re the last person who needs to be told that. Sorry.”

Finn waved his apology away. “So you’re saying pushing for the Accords was just the New Republic playing for time?”

“Essentially. Of course, the disadvantage is that the First Order also gets to go away and rebuild and reorganise, but that’s a sacrifice the Republic had to make.”

Finn pursed his lips and didn’t speak for a moment. Then he said, “I don’t like it, but I guess I see your point.”

Mitaka smiled back at him. “You wouldn’t. You’re more of a knight in shining armour type than a politician.”

Finn raised an eyebrow. “‘A knight in shining armour’?”

Mitaka couldn’t help but laugh. “I guess I just meant you’re not the type of man who could compromise his morals enough to let some people suffer for the greater good. Which is not a bad thing,” Mitaka added, “There are arguments for and against the Accords. Some people say that allowing planets in First Order-held territory to suffer now, so that the Republic can gather enough strength to oust the First Order for good later, is an acceptable sacrifice. Some people don’t believe any excuse justifies allowing them to go on under the First Order’s rule. It’s a matter of perspective, I suppose.”

A little, barely-there smile crossed Finn’s face. “Never had to think about such high and mighty concepts when I was a trooper. It was just go here, do this, don’t question. It sounds crazy, but sometimes…” He trailed off into silence.

“Sometimes you miss the simplicity of it,” Mitaka finished, thinking back to his own days aboard the _Finalizer_.

“Yeah.” Then Finn said back and regarded Mitaka critically. “What about you, though? You said you were too jaded to join the Resistance, but you’re designing warships for the Republic.”

“What does that have to do with anything?”

“You could’ve asked the Republic to set you up in pretty much any job going, right? But you chose warship designer.”

“I had the skills to work in ship design, and it interested me,” Mitaka said, hating that his voice sounded defencive.

“Okay, then you could’ve got a job designing luxury star yachts or long-haul passenger cruisers or merchant freighters. I’ve seen the KDY catalogue; they design _literally_ everything under the sun. But you’re in warships.”

“I have a lot of experience with warships,” Mitaka said stiffly. When Finn did nothing but smile at him, he added reluctantly, “And yes, when the Republic warships I helped design blow the First Order’s capital ships out of the sky, I will feel a certain amount of grim satisfaction. Besides, if you design luxury star yachts you have to put up with snobby holonet stars asking why it hasn’t got fifteen bathrooms or a fully transparitsteel roof, so.”

That finally made Finn laugh. “Okay, point.”

“So how long will it take us to get to this Resistance base?” Mitaka asked, fully intent on changing the subject.

“About three days, give or take,” Finn said.

Mitaka ran a quick calculation in his head. If they were already in the Expansion region, then a full three days would take them far out into the Outer Rim, almost to its edge. “You weren’t kidding about being far away from the First Order. You’re far away from everything else too, apparently.”

“That’s kind of the idea,” Finn said cryptically.

“Right.” He probably wasn’t going to get much more information out of Finn than that. Mitaka cast about for something else to say, and his eyes landed on the board at the end of the table. “You any good at dejarik?”

“Decent,” Finn said, though the wary way he looked at the dejarik board seemed to suggest otherwise.

“We could play sabacc if you prefer. I’m better at that, anyway.”

Finn made a face. “I’m _awful_ at sabacc. No ‘sabacc face’, Poe says.”

Mitaka laughed. “Maybe I can teach you. I used to wipe the floor with the other officers on the _Finalizer_.”

Finn blinked at him. “You played sabacc while you were in the First Order?”

“Not for money - that was banned. But so long as you kept credits out of it, the higher-ups would turn a blind eye.” Mitaka laughed again. “Mostly because Phasma liked a game or two herself, now and then.”

Finn’s eyes looked like they were about to burst out of his head. “ _Phasma_ played sabacc?”

“Oh, she was a sabacc _demon_. No one could beat her. If we _had_ been playing for money, we’d have been broke in one night.”

Finn shook his head slowly, muttering something under his breath that definitely consisted of the words ‘Phasma’ and ‘sabacc’.

“Sorry to blow your mind,” Mitaka said, inordinately amused by how much the idea seemed to horrify Finn.

Finn looked back at him, and after a second a cocky grin spread over his face. “Whatever. So, you gonna teach me how to play, sabacc master? We’ve got another couple of hours til we need to drop out of hyperspace to put in the next stage of the route.”

Mitaka smiled, feeling something unexpectedly warm in his chest. “Sure. Prepare to get beaten.”

/

The rest of the hyperspace journey passed in a similar way, with Mitaka winning most of the hands and Finn’s sabacc face not really improving, until they moved onto dejarik, where the scores were mostly even. After that got boring they opted for whatever holodramas had been saved on the ship’s memory core, which were all uniformly awful, but were a slightly better way of passing time than staring at the wall.

It was odd, Mitaka thought, how easy it was to talk to Finn and be around him, considering the circumstances under which they’d met. He was still worried about the possibility of getting dragged into some dangerous Resistance mission, or getting arrested, not to mention leaving Kuat and his job without a word, but those worries seemed to have migrated to the back of his mind, growing dormant as he resigned himself to the fact that he was going to the Resistance base whether he liked it or not. And besides that, he found Finn was a genuinely good companion to spend time with - though whether that was because anyone would be more interesting than the dire holodramas was questionable.

His resignation had curdled into a kind of nervous almost-fear by the time their ship dropped out of hyperspace and into the orbit of the unknown planet that housed the Resistance base. Mitaka had time to see that the world was heavily forested, with dots of blue here and there indicating water, before Finn guided the _Helios_ down toward the planet’s night side. Neither of them spoke as Finn guided the ship down through the atmosphere and toward the cluster of lights that delineated where a wide swathe had been cut through the forest.

When they’d landed and powered down the engines, the two of them sat in awkward silence for a minute or so. Mitaka wasn’t particularly eager to go out and meet whatever Resistance welcoming party was waiting for them, and Finn too seemed reluctant to move, though Mitaka didn’t know for what reason.

Eventually, he forced himself to say, “We can’t wait in here forever.”

“No,” Finn sighed. He stood, and Mitaka followed him out of the cockpit and down toward the landing ramp. He hadn’t had much on him when he was taken, so there wasn’t even the excuse of gathering his things to stay on the ship for a few more minutes. Finn hesitated for just a second before hitting the ramp release, but Mitaka waved him on. There was no point delaying the inevitable.

Four figures were waiting for them outside the ship. Mitaka almost stopped when he saw one of them was a huge Wookiee, but he forced himself to keep walking.

The human in the centre seemed to be their leader; he stepped forward into the glare of the ship’s running lights, revealing a middle-aged, ginger-haired man with a tired, careworn look. “Finn,” he said, “Glad to see you made it.” His tone was businesslike, but Mitaka thought he detected a hint of warmth underneath.

“And without getting into trouble, even,” Finn said, his customary grin back on his face.

The older man nodded in acknowledgement, then turned to Mitaka. “And you must be Lieutenant Dopheld Mitaka.”

Mitaka tried not to wince at the use of both his old rank and his first name. “Yes. Just Mitaka will do.”

“Right. I’m Captain Kend Amshre, the First Officer at this base. Finn’s explained the regulations you’ll be under while here?”

“He said something about restricting who I talk to, and not leaving the base.” Mitaka glanced around at the dark trees where the forest was encroaching on the landing strip. “Looks like there’s not much else out here, though.”

“There isn’t,” Amshre said. “We’ll also need to take any weapons or communications devices you have.”

“My first group of captors took those,” Mitaka said sourly.

Amshre looked dubious, but XE’s voice spoke up from behind Mitaka. “I have already made a scan of him, sir,” the droid said.

“Good.” Amshre motioned for Mitaka and Finn to move forward. As they drew level with him, the group around him split apart so they formed a loose semi-circle around Mitaka, Finn and Amshre. Without saying another word, they were led across the landing strip and into the small base.

It was made up of squat, pre-fab buildings, some only single-height, some stacked on top of each other in unsteady-looking towers. Everything was rampantly overgrown with vines, suggesting the base had been here for quite some time. Amshre led them to the tallest of the pre-fab towers, five units high and practically choked with swinging, creeping vines. Inside, there was a short corridor with four doors leading off it; the opposite wall was studded with a simple set of rungs leading up through a hole in the ceiling to the level above. Amshre led them all the way up the ladder until they reached the fifth floor, then opened the door on his immediate left with a wave of his wrist in front of the door panel. Mitaka glanced into the room, seeing a very simple set-up; bed, wardrobe, and desk packed into the tiny space. The only saving grace was the large window positioned above the desk. Given where they were relative to the landing strip, Mitaka guessed it looked out over the forest.

“Freshers and showers are on the bottom level,” Amshre said; then he held out a strip of black plastic. “Your wrist, please.”

Mitaka held it out, forcing down the urge to sigh. As expected, the black band wrapped around his wrist and sealed with a small beep. “Tracking device,” Amshre said. “It’ll go off if you leave the base, or go into certain restricted areas. It also acts like a keycard; you can use it to open this door and the front door downstairs.”

Amshre had a similar band on his own wrist, Mitaka noticed. _It probably doesn’t notify Resistance Command when he takes one step into the forest_ , he thought bitterly. “Alright. Do you need anything else from me?”

“Not at present. Commander Isle will want to speak with you when she returns from her patrol.”

“Fine.” There was a second more of awkward silence, and then Amshre nodded and motioned for the group to make their way back down the ladder. Finn looked like he wanted to linger, but the Wookiee growled something at him that Mitaka imagined was a command to follow. Finn shot him an apologetic look before disappearing down the ladder with the rest of them.

For a second Mitaka lingered in the corridor, looking at the closed doors. Who were the other occupants of this block, and did they know who’d just moved in? And how did they feel about that? Panicked thoughts of making a dash back to the ship raced through his head, but he made an effort to dismiss them. Even without the threat of XE, who in all likelihood was on the ship waiting for just such an escape attempt, he’d be hard-pressed to make it all the way out through the atmosphere and into hyperspace without encountering resistance or pursuit. The Resistance had given him a somewhat limited run of their base, which he intended to exploit to his full ability; a botched escape attempt now would only result in them tightening their restrictions, or maybe even locking him up. He had to be patient.

He went into the room and closed the door. The lights came up automatically, illuminating the grim, cramped little space. Aside from the window and the blanket on the bed, it looked disconcertingly similar to a First Order prison cell. It was a far cry from his cosy, neatly furnished apartment at home on Kuat. _I definitely picked the right side_ , Mitaka thought, kicking off his boots and lying down on the bed. When he flicked off the lights, he closed his eyes and imagined himself back in his own bed, in the comfort of his own home. He missed the low background hum of the station, the soft clunks and hisses of the life support system. Here they were replaced by the sound of wind rustling through leaves and the low, slightly unnerving howls of some unseen animal out in the night.

 _It’s only for a little while_ , Mitaka told himself. _Only for a little while._

/

He woke the next morning to a knock on his door. When he dragged himself out of bed and answered it, he wasn’t that surprised to see Finn standing there. “Sleep well?” Finn asked.

Mitaka stepped back and motioned him into the room. “Fine,” he said, which wasn’t entirely true, but he didn’t need to burden Finn with the details of his homesickness. “You certainly get up early.”

“Everyone does,” Finn said. “You hungry?”

He was, Mitaka realised. “I assume there’s some sort of dining hall?”

Finn nodded. “Shall I give you a moment to get dressed?”

Mitaka only took five minutes to dress and brush his teeth, and soon found Finn where he was waiting leant up against the outside wall of the accommodation tower. “Do you live in there?” Mitaka asked, motioning back to it as they crossed the duracrete toward another set of buildings.

Finn shook his head, and pointed to another tower of pre-fab blocks, this one only two levels. “I’m in that one.”

“Special officers accommodation?” Mitaka asked.

“Sort of. The base commanders’ accommodation is that one; mine is really the guest quarters.”

“So what’s mine?”

“Full time base personnel; they just had a free room.” Finn smiled a little. “I probably shouldn’t be telling you all this.”

“Why not? It’s not like I know where I am, not beyond ‘a forested planet in the far Outer Rim somewhere’. Do you know how many worlds that description could apply to?”

“Hundreds, probably.”

“Exactly. So I don’t think the layout of where everyone sleeps at night is going to be of much use to me.” Mitaka waved a hand up at the sky. “Besides, this place isn’t hidden from the air. If they find this planet, they’ll find you.”

“We’re far enough away from the First Order that we’re _hoping_ that won’t be a problem.”

Mitaka shook his head. “I wouldn’t count on it. Is that the mess hall?”

They had come to a long, low building with a stream of people going to and fro from its wide open doors. Inside, the building was full of noise, with perhaps two hundred or so people sitting down to eat. Mitaka stared around as they joined the line for food, noting the wide spread of ages and species represented in the hall. “Who are all these people?” he asked under his breath.

“Resistance members,” Finn said.

“Right. ‘Don’t be nosy’, I got it.”

“I didn’t mean it like that,” Finn said.

“It’s fine. I’ve been working for your enemy, in a way, so it makes sense.”

“The New Republic aren’t our _enemy_ ,” Finn protested.

“But they’re not your _friends_ , either.”

“They could be, if they stopped trying to arrest us all the time.”

“They’d stop trying to arrest you if you stopped poking at the First Order and endangering the peace.”

Finn sighed. “Maybe we should just agree to disagree about the whole… Accords thing.”

“That would probably make this more comfortable.” They stood in silence for a moment before Mitaka ventured another question, pitching his voice quieter. “Are there any other…” He hesitated. “People like me?”

Finn cocked his head. “Like you?”

“ _Defectors_.”

“Oh. Er, no. Or maybe one or two?” Finn looked apologetic. “I don’t really know, sorry.”

“It’s fine. I probably shouldn’t talk to anyone else.” Then they reached the front of the line, where a human woman and a Gran were serving. They piled Mitaka’s plate automatically, not really seeming to register him as distinct from anyone else, which suited Mitaka just fine. He followed Finn to an empty table, trying not to catch the eye of anyone around him.

“It’s fine,” Finn said once they were seated, “New people come and go here all the time. They won’t think it’s anything out of the ordinary.”

“Unless someone recognises me,” Mitaka said, keeping his eyes on his food.

“Is that likely?”

“No. But it’s possible.”

“I’ll deflect anyone’s interest,” Finn said easily.

Mitaka nodded. He wasn’t entirely convinced, but he couldn’t bring himself to argue about it. “What next, then?” he asked instead.

“Well, Commander Isle will be back today. She’ll want to talk to you; then Amshre thinks she’ll call a meeting.”

“About what?”

“The teams have had three days to check out the planets on your list and the Republic’s. Some of them must have something to report by now.”

“Right.” Mitaka risked a look at his surroundings, wanting to see if anyone had taken notice of them. To his surprise, he saw that they had - but no one was looking at _him_. All the quick glances and subtle looks seemed reserved for Finn; Mitaka could see people looking at him and then glancing away, whispering to their neighbours behind their hands. Finn seemed completely oblivious, tucking into his food like he didn’t have a care in the world.

Mitaka fell silent, not sure how to start up the conversation again. He had so many questions, but all of them would make him seem like he was intentionally fishing for information; he couldn’t ask Finn what he usually did for the Resistance, or where he was usually based, or where any of his famous friends were right now. Any standard smalltalk questions about his home or his job were related to the Resistance, and therefore also out. Finally he settled on, “So, er… do you have any hobbies? When you’re not on Resistance business?”

Finn blinked at him for a second. “Er… I like movies?”

The confused way he said it made Mitaka laugh. After a moment, Finn laughed too, as if he couldn’t help but join in with the happy sound, despite the fact that it was at his own expense. He liked that about Finn, Mitaka realised. He always seemed upbeat, and _hopeful_.

“We don’t get a lot of downtime, honestly,” Finn said.

“You must spend a lot of time in hyperspace - surely enough time to, I don’t know, take up knitting or something.”

Finn shook his head. “Nah, we spend most of that time either planning our missions, doing maintenance on the ship, or training.”

“I suppose that’s more productive than binge-watching _Real Housewives of Coruscant_ ,” Mitaka said.

“I don’t even know what that is,” Finn said, which made Mitaka burst into laughter again.

It was easy, to just get up and follow Finn once they’d finished breakfast. Despite what he’d said, he didn’t seem to have any duties; and as the morning progressed, Mitaka could see how the downtime left him rather adrift, especially among the hustle and bustle of all the base personnel doing their jobs. After an hour or so he said, “I know I can’t leave the base, but we could go down to the end of the landing strip somewhere. It would be more peaceful.”

Mitaka could see the gratitude in Finn’s face as he agreed. They wandered down to the end of the long strip of duracrete, close to the edge where they could hear and smell the forest. The dark spaces between the trees looked alluring and mysterious to Mitaka, yet also held an air of menace, of the danger of the unknown. He both wished that the band around his wrist would allow him to step out into that mysterious landscape, and was grateful for it as an excuse to not go further than the duracrete.

There was a small, half-finished wall at the end of the landing strip. When they reached it they sat down together, staring out at the thick forest beyond. This far away from the cluster of buildings, the sound of human habitation was muted, and Mitaka could clearly hear all the calls and screams and howls coming from deep within the trees. “Do you know what animal makes that awful howling? I heard it all night.”

Finn shook his head. “There are dangerous animals in there somewhere, but they’re afraid of the ships, so they don’t come near the base.”

“What kind of dangerous animals?”

“Well, they look sort of like a Wookiee, I guess, but even _bigger_ …”

It was easy, to sit there and talk to Finn. Mitaka couldn’t even have said later what they talked about; all he remembered was a feeling of ease, and a feeling of connection with another human being that he’d never really felt before. Strange as it was, he found himself thinking of Finn as his _friend_.

They were interrupted suddenly by the roar of fighter engines. The patrol group swept in from the north, banking and slowing down as they came in to land. “That’s Commander Isle, I presume,” Mitaka said, feeling his heart sink at the unwelcome return of reality.

“That’s her. We’d better get going.”

The base was in the usual chaos that followed a squad’s return, and something about it was so familiar from his own time in the military that it soothed Mitaka’s nerves somewhat.

Of course, they all came raging back when he spotted the woman making her way over to them. The crowd parted respectfully before her, and Mitaka could see the admiring and respectful glances people sent her way as she passed. She was an older woman, with long grey hair pulled back in a tight bun; and her eyes as she stopped and regarded Mitaka were a steely blue. “You’re our informant,” she said, her voice low and rich.

“Yes,” Mitaka said, just about resisting the urge to add ‘ma’am’.

Commander Isle - for there was no one else this could be - nodded her head toward one of the buildings, said, “Follow me,” and then turned and strode off, not waiting to see if Mitaka followed her. He did, obviously.

The room she led him to was clearly some kind of operations centre. A big holoprojection table dominated the centre of the room, with other boards and consoles and terminals spread around it. Amshre was waiting by the projection table, along with one of his companions from the previous night, a Pantoran woman who had her purple hair done up in a complicated series of braids. “You’ve met Captain Amshre and Lieutenant Chirmar, I think?” Isle said, nodding toward the two of them. Mitaka nodded, following her as she made for the projection table. Amshre and Chirmar stepped back slightly as Commander Isle took up position on the opposite side of the table from Mitaka, allowing her to have the spotlight.

For a moment Isle just stood and looked at him. Mitaka stared back. “Not an entirely willing informant, then,” Isle said after a full minute of silence.

“How could you tell?” Mitaka asked, not hiding his bitterness.

“Finn told us you were willing to work with us,” Isle said.

“I am. But if he’d found me in different circumstances, I might not have been.” When Isle tipped her head questioningly, Mitaka said, “He didn’t tell you about the other faction of Resistance? The ones who kidnapped me?”

Isle’s eyes slid to Amshre. “That wasn’t in your report.”

Amshre swallowed. “An oversight, ma’am. Captain Finn did inform us of this.”

“See that the report is _complete_ in the future, then,” Isle said, letting her eyes linger on Amshre for a moment longer before she looked back to Mitaka. “Well, it might not mean much, but I do offer my apologies on behalf of our former allies.”

It did mean something, Mitaka thought, because there seemed to be no guile or manipulation in the way she said it - only genuine regret. “Thank you,” he said.

“Were you hurt in their attack?”

“No - but they killed the RIB agent who was escorting me.”

Isle’s eyebrows rose a fraction. “They’re growing bolder. That’s concerning.”

“That’s not even the worst of it,” Amshre broke in. “They kidnapped Mr Mitaka in broad daylight from Kuat Station itself.”

Isle looked down for a moment, thinking. “That speaks more of desperation than boldness.”

“They looked a lot less organised and less… funded than you do,” Mitaka said. “Maybe their numbers are dwindling as their members realise being part of a splinter group isn’t all it’s cracked up to be.”

“That’s certainly a possibility,” Isle said. After a pause for thought she continued, “But however you came to be here, Mr Mitaka, we do appreciate your help in this matter. I’m sure all of us wish to see General Hux back in prison.”

“Me as much as anyone,” Mitaka said.

Isle nodded slowly. “Good. Well, I think that’s all that need be said for the moment. Chirmar, please invite everyone else inside.”

The room quickly filled with what Mitaka assumed to be the other officers and senior personnel of the base. Finn stepped up beside him, flashing him a smile.

“I don’t think I need detail our mission to anyone here,” Isle said once everyone had gathered. “Our teams have been following the leads given to us by Mr Mitaka and Republic Intelligence for the past few days. So far, every site they’ve visited is either empty or abandoned.” That was the news Mitaka had been expecting to hear, but it was still disheartening. “We do still have a few locations to check, but the hope of finding General Hux’s hiding place is dwindling.”

“But I thought we had a certain lead?” someone said.

“I was informed that we did,” Isle said, looking straight at Finn.

Finn glanced around the circle nervously, then looked back at Isle for confirmation. “Should I…?”

“Go ahead and tell them, Captain. I don’t think it will benefit us to hide it.”

“Right.” Finn cleared his throat. “Well, when Hux first escaped, I was calling everyone, seeing if I could get any leads. So I ended up calling Maz Kanata.” Mitaka felt his own expression go slack with surprise, and saw several others around the circle have a similar reaction. “She told me that Hux’s- well, er, that Mitaka here would be the key to finding him.”

Now all eyes turned to Mitaka. “She didn’t say how?” a human man on the left side of the circle asked.

“Not really,” Finn admitted.

Mitaka took a deep breath and said, “I’ve been giving information to the New Republic about the First Order for several years now.” There were only a few ways he could have come by such information, but maybe the people here would assume he was a freelance spy or an RIB agent instead of a First Order defector. “I gave a list of possible First Order hiding spots and boltholes to you several days ago.”

Nods and murmurs went round the circle. “Three of those have been checked,” Isle said, “but there are still two more. There we might find our quarry.”

“I hope so,” Mitaka said, “Because after that, I’m not really sure where else you could look.”

More, louder murmuring. Isle’s lips twisted, and she stared down at her folded hands where they lay on the table.

A new voice suddenly spoke up. “Perhaps Mr Mitaka could visit Maz Kanata,” Lieutenant Chirmar said. “Perhaps she could give him more details about why he is the key to finding General Hux.”

Mitaka felt something in his stomach clench, but there was a wave of nods and approving words around the circle.

“That may help us gain some deeper insight,” Isle said. Her eyes were fixed on Mitaka. “Will you go, Mr Mitaka?”

All eyes turned on him. Mitaka could feel his breath come shorter as the combined weight of their gazes and expectations pressed down on him, suffocating and close like a wet, heavy blanket. Maz Kanata was a name regarded with a healthy amount of suspicion and wariness by any sane individual, and though she had a strict policy of dealing with individuals fairly, she’d been burnt by the First Order before. She might not appreciate meeting a First Order defector - especially one who’d helped plan the attack on her old castle.

Mitaka glanced left and caught Finn’s eye, saw his hopeful, almost pleading expression.

He sighed. “Yes, I’ll go.”

/

“I cannot believe you talked me into this,” he said later, as he and Finn were crossing the duracrete back toward the guest quarters.

“I didn’t say anything!”

“You said it all with your expression,” Mitaka grumbled. “Like a pleading akk puppy. ‘Oh please Mitaka, come with me to visit one of the most dangerous women in the galaxy’!”

Finn’s laughter burst out of him like an explosion of sunlight, the sound of it even touching Mitaka’s dour mood. “She’s not that bad,” he said.

“She’s incredibly dangerous. Moreover, she _deals_ with incredibly dangerous people.”

“Yeah, but she’s also an old friend.”

Mitaka stared at him a moment before shaking his head. “You have some very odd friends.”

“But all valued,” Finn said, winking at him. “Okay, I’ll go get my things. You okay to wait here?”

Mitaka nodded, and leant against the wall as Finn entered the guest quarters. _All valued_ , Finn had said, and he’d been looking straight at him. Did he really see Mitaka as a friend already? Mitaka felt embarrassingly pleased and almost excited at the thought of that, that his tentative feelings of friendship could be returned.

The sound of footsteps and low, hissing voices broke into his thoughts. On instinct he stepped back, hiding himself in the shadows. It proved to be just in time; no sooner was he out of sight than Amshre and Chirmar came into view, arguing as they made their way toward the officer’s quarters. Mitaka strained to hear what was said, but only caught Amshre saying, “…a rookie mistake!” before Chirmar shushed him and they disappeared through the door.

Mitaka stepped back to his previous position, satisfied that he could dismiss that little episode as nothing more than an officer chewing out his underling for making him look bad in front of a superior. After all, properly completing a report was something that Mitaka had learnt in his first year at the Academy.

Finn appeared soon after, and the two of them made their way to his ship. As they left the planet’s atmosphere, Mitaka said, “So, where are we heading?”

“Have you heard of Palimar?” Mitaka shook his head. “It’s somewhere in the Mid Rim. Practically all the way across the galaxy from here, but that’s where Maz is, so that’s where we go.”

Mitaka blinked. “You already called her?”

“While I was getting my bag.” Finn grinned as he began tapping in hyperspace coordinates. “She said she’d expected I’d call for her help again.”

“At least she’s not unwilling to give it.”

“Well, she’s willing to see us, at least.” Finn hit the confirm button on the navicomputer. The system hummed, working out the best route. “Might not mean she actually tells us anything when we get there.”

“Brilliant,” Mitaka said flatly.

“She’s not so bad.” Finn pushed the hyperspace lever forward, and the ship shot smoothly out into hyperspace. “There. That’s a full twelve hours til our next course correction.” He turned in his seat and grinned. “I made sure to get us some better in-flight entertainment this time.”

Mitaka blinked at him, surprised. “Really?”

“Yep, downloaded it all last night. Thought I’d be watching it by myself, but now it’ll come in handy, right? Chirmar said it was all trash, but since you mentioned _Real Housewives_ , I figured I might be on the right track.”

Mitaka couldn’t help the smile that crept onto his lips. Somehow he already knew it was perfectly in character for Finn to have remembered his offhand comment about bad holonet shows. “So what did you download?”

“Well, I got something called _Keeping Up With Calrissian_ … oh, and another called _Say Yes To The Dress: Naboo Edition_ …”

/

Mitaka was surprised by how different it felt to binge-watch silly reality TV shows with someone else. At home, sitting on his sofa alone in the evenings, the shows felt like a bright, pretty distraction from the rather rote and circular course of his daily life; but here, with someone to laugh at all the stupid moments along with him, with someone to react to all the cutting comments he usually made to an empty room, Mitaka realised just how lonely he had been before. And on the third night into their journey, when he was lying awake staring at the ceiling, Mitaka had a horrible, frightening thought.

_What if I don’t want to go back?_

It wasn’t possible. He’d built his life on Kuat; he was _happy_ on Kuat. Or if not happy, he was content. His life was stable, and for the most part his work was interesting. He got invited to the occasional party, or got asked out for drinks after work. And that was the kind of life he needed - the kind of simple, _safe_ life he’d daydreamed about in the endless grind of danger and suspense and terror that had been his life in the First Order.

 _Safe_ and _stable_ were not words that could be used to describe life in the Resistance. Why would he want to trade Kuat for this?

“You’ve made one friend,” he told the ceiling, “That’s not worth throwing your life away.”

On the morning they were due to arrive on Palimar, Mitaka dragged himself out of his cabin and to the dining table to the sound of Finn clattering with pots and pans and whistling to himself as he worked. “Morning,” he muttered.

“Morning. You really aren’t a morning person, are you?”

“How could you tell?” Mitaka asked, pouring himself a mug of caf from the pot Finn had left on the table.

“Hopefully breakfast will cheer you up then. Haven’t got much but rations left now, but we do still have a few fresh things to liven it up a bit.”

“How wonderful,” Mitaka said, hoping his tone clearly conveyed the depths of his disgust for dry-packed ship’s rations.

“I’ve been told I have a gift for making them edible,” Finn said, grinning over his shoulder.

There was a bright joy radiating from that grin that touched even Mitaka’s bad mood, but he still answered sourly. “I’ll believe it when I taste it.”

Finn let Mitaka sip his coffee without making him join in any more conversation, for which Mitaka was exceedingly grateful. He felt slightly more awake once he reached the bottom of the mug, just in time for Finn to say brightly, “I hope you’re ready for this _amazing_ breakfast I’m about to serve.”

Mitaka made a face when he was sure Finn’s back was turned. “I’m ready to dissociate from my tastebuds.”

To his surprise, it actually wasn’t that bad. That didn’t mean it was _good_ , but compared to some of the absolute garbage Mitaka had eaten on other starships, it was certainly _better_. It didn’t make him feel like he was eating a particularly rubbery dianoga tentacle, so there was at least that.

Not that he was going to admit that to Finn, no matter how much his new friend pressed him.

A few hours later, they came out of hyperspace and into the orbit of Palimar. Finn seemed to have at least some sort of in with Kanata, as he got clearance to land just minutes after he made contact with space control.

Mitaka had heard of Maz Kanata, but he knew little else about her besides her fearsome reputation. Most everyone had heard that Kanata’s legendary castle on Takodana had been destroyed, and that she’d coasted across the galaxy causing trouble ever since. What she was doing here was anyone’s guess.

From a distance Palimar looked very similar to the planet they’d just left, except that the trees of the thick forests came in blue and purple rather than green. But as they got closer, Mitaka noticed an odd, luminescent glow emanating from the forest. He realised that the trees, the bushes, the ferns and vines and all the other flora of Palimar were _glowing_ , emitting soft light in shades of blue and purple and the occasional gold.

“Cool, huh?” Finn said.

When Mitaka looked at him, he found Finn already watching him, a fond sort of grin spread across his face. “Watch you don’t crash into a tree,” Mitaka said, feeling suddenly embarrassed. _It’s just glowing trees. It’s not that special._

The place Maz Kanata’s coordinates led them to, on the other hand, was.

There was no other word to describe it; it was a _castle_. But where Kanata’s castle had been ancient, a grey stone edifice that might have sat there since the beginning of time, _this_ castle was the exact opposite. It rose from the shores of a wine-purple sea in glittering, spiralling glass towers, all lit from within with a white-gold glow that spread soft light across the dark waves. The entire thing was topped with an enormous clear jewel, and as they came in to land Mitaka saw that it turned in its circular frame very slowly, sending glittering refractions across the water and the glowing forest.

As they exited the ship and Finn locked up behind him, Mitaka took a moment to just stand and _look_ , drinking in the gaudy and yet somehow elegant majesty of the huge building. “This is… certainly something,” he said, hearing Finn come up behind him.

“Maz has rich friends,” Finn said, shrugging. “Come on, she’s expecting us.” Finn led him across the landing field, which was lit by floating globes of light that ringed the duracrete on every side.

“Kanata and her people are really _here_?” Mitaka asked, looking around in wonder as Finn led him along a path that had beautiful, dimly-lit pleasure gardens spreading away on each side. “This seems more like a fairytale dream castle than a drinking hole for hardened criminals. I keep expecting a handsome prince to leap out of the shrubbery.”

“Really? What does he look like, this handsome prince?”

“Didn’t I just say? He’s handsome.”

“That’s it?”

“Feel free to describe him in more detail if you like,” Mitaka said, rolling his eyes.

“Tall, dark, dashing, wearing a kickass leather jacket?” Finn said. When Mitaka turned to him he was grinning slyly, and for some reason Mitaka looked away, his cheeks heating.

“I can’t believe you just described _yourself_ as ‘dashing’,” he said, hoping his scathing tone hide the sudden butterflies that had taken flight in his stomach. _For star’s sake act like an adult and not a_ teenager _, Mitaka_ , he chastised himself.

“So we’ve had a knight in shining armour, a ‘fairytale dream castle’, and now a handsome prince,” Finn said. When Mitaka looked at him, there was a cheeky grin on his face. “Do I detect that someone might have read a lot of fantasy holonovels at some point?”

Mitaka looked away. “Maybe,” he admitted.

Thankfully for Mitaka’s ego, Finn didn’t laugh. Instead he said, “I guess Maz’s host must have read the same novels.”

“And had the money to bring the fantasy to reality.”

“Right. And yes, to answer your question, I have no idea if Maz’s people are here. I don’t even know who owns this place.”

Mitaka gave him a concerned look. “Then how do you know we’re not walking into a trap?”

“Because I’ve been working with Maz for years,” Finn said, completely unconcerned.

“That doesn’t mean she wouldn’t double-cross you for profit.”

Finn shook his head. “She’s not a Hutt, Mitaka. She has got _some_ standards.”

They were coming to the end of the walkway, and Mitaka could see a group of uniformed attendants waiting for them by the big glass doors that led inside. “Let’s hope standards are enough to save our necks,” Mitaka muttered.

The attendants seemed to be expecting them; they all bowed as one and, completely in silence, led Finn and Mitaka through the doors and into the dazzling castle. Inside, everything followed the glass theme; the walls were left exposed on every side, crystal ornaments and sculptures adorned every room, and even the furniture was formed of clear, perfect glass.

They were finally shown into a smaller, almost cosy room. Unlike the grand hallways, the floor here was softened by thick carpets, and the plush couches and armchairs arrayed in front of the fireplace suggested it was some kind of sitting room.

A small, orange-skinned woman was sitting in one of the big armchairs; she looked up and smiled as they entered. “Heh. I thought you’d show up again soon enough.”

“Can’t get rid of me,” Finn said, a big grin spreading across his face. He let himself flop down onto one of the couches. “I like your new place.”

Maz made a face. “This gaudy monstrosity? It’s absolutely hideous - I wouldn’t live here if you paid me.”

“So why are we here?” Mitaka asked, slowly taking a seat on the other end of Finn’s couch.

Maz gave him a long, assessing look before answering. “Because I took the trouble to find someone who might be able to help you.”

Mitaka opened his mouth to ask what she meant, but Finn said, “Maz Kanata doing someone a favour without payment? Sounds bad for business.”

“Some of us have personal vendettas to satisfy,” Maz said primly, and Mitaka was sure he heard her mutter the word ‘castle’ under her breath. Her gold eyes flicked between the two of them. “So, finding the one was easier than finding the other, hmm?”

“All the places I suggested the Resistance search have so far turned up blank,” Mitaka said. “There’s no sign of Hux anywhere we’ve looked.”

“And how did you make the list, hmm?”

Mitaka frowned. “I… just listed all the First Order hideouts I knew of.”

Maz snapped her fingers. “Exactly. I’ve had a bit of time to think about it, and it seems to _me_ that if Hux really didn’t want to be found, he’d go somewhere that no one in the First Order knew about, so none of them could follow him.”

Mitaka grit his teeth. “So if no one in the First Order knows about it, how am _I_ supposed to know where it is?”

There was a moment of silence before Finn said slowly, “Maybe you don’t _know_ you know about it.”

“That is fantastically helpful,” Mitaka said, rolling his eyes heavenward.

“There is something you know that’s the key to finding Hux,” Maz insisted. “The only problem is remembering exactly what that piece of information _is_.”

Mitaka felt like throwing his hands up and storming off in frustration, but he made himself sit and take long, deep breaths, in and out, until he was calm enough to focus. He wasn’t getting home until Hux was found, so he might as well concentrate on finding him, no matter how absurd the method. “He’s always been cunning,” he started, “Wherever he is, there’ll be some kind of subterfuge involved, some kind of bait and switch.” He pursed his lips, thinking. “He was always fairly close to Phasma - maybe he went to her homeworld?”

“He’d be able to hide there?” Finn asked.

“It’s very remote, and it was ravaged by an ecological collapse, so I doubt it sees much traffic.”

“It’s worth checking out, I suppose.”

“I’ll give you the coordinates now.” Mitaka sighed. “But it doesn’t exactly fit the criteria. _I_ know where her homeworld is, and I don’t doubt there are other officers in the stormtrooper corps who do too.”

“Then I guess the only thing you can do is keep thinking,” Finn said.

Maz reached into the bowl sitting at her elbow and pulled out a baji nut; it made a startlingly loud crunch as she cracked it between her teeth. “I recommend the beach,” she said.

/

After giving Finn the coordinates, Mitaka left him to make his call to Resistance HQ. He wandered for a while through the halls of the fantastical glass castle, admiring the beauty of the artworks and sculptures, trying not to think too hard about the question he was supposed to be answering. He knew if he spent all his time agonising over it, the answer would never come. Annoying as it was, he had to wait for the flash of inspiration to strike, for the buried memory to surface.

It was easy to get lost; Mitaka wandered aimlessly through several galleries and reception rooms before entering what he instantly identified as a ballroom. The wide dance floor was tiled in a huge mosaic of multi-coloured glass, leading to empty space where the huge walls had been pulled aside to allow access directly out onto a huge balcony that overlooked the sea. He crossed the room and went out into the night, and leant on the wide balustrade that ringed the balcony, closing his eyes as he breathed in the fresh sea air. When he looked out at the horizon, he could see that the water, like the forest, glowed with an eerie blue-and-purple beauty. The light from the castle danced across the water, shimmering, and Mitaka let himself be mesmerised, sinking into a calm, vacant state where his mind went completely blank.

He started back at a hand on his shoulder. “Sorry!” It was Finn’s voice; the other man held both hands up in apology. “I didn’t mean to make you jump.”

“I was just… distracted,” Mitaka admitted, settling back into position with his arms folded on the balustrade. “You got hold of the Resistance?”

“They’re going to check out Parnassos now. I told Poe it was a long shot, but he seemed grateful to have any lead.” Finn’s mouth twisted. “He’s clutching at any straw he can find.”

“He’s desperate to find General Organa, no doubt.” Mitaka knew little of the actual man behind all of the smiling photos on Resistance recruitment posters, but did know Poe Dameron was supposedly a protege of sorts to Leia Organa. He glanced sidelong at Finn, noting the way he stared at the waves below without seeming to see them. “You’re worried about him.”

“He takes risks, sometimes,” Finn murmured, his eyes still on the water.

“He was the one who helped you escape the _Finalizer_ ,” Mitaka said. Finn nodded. “You must be very close.”

The ghost of a smile crossed Finn’s face. “Yeah. Have been for years. He’s probably the person I’m closest to, out of the whole Resistance. Out of the whole galaxy too, I guess.”

That made something hurt in Mitaka’s chest, though he refused to examine the reason why. “I hope he’s careful on Parnassos, then.”

“Yeah, me too.” Finn paused a moment before saying, “Never had friends like that in the First Order, right? Never spent that much time caring about someone else.”

“No one has friends in the First Order.” Mitaka turned back to the water. “But I don’t believe for a second that you didn’t care about anyone.”

“Oh yeah? What makes you so sure?”

 _Because after barely a week, you care about_ me. Or rather, Mitaka _thought_ Finn cared about him; it might be entirely wishful thinking. “You just… you don’t seem the type. To care only about yourself, I mean.”

“That’s not much of an answer.”

 _Well what am I_ supposed _to say?_ Mitaka thought. He wished now that he’d kept his remarks purely impersonal. “You… it’s just clear that you care about everyone around you.”

“I do,” Finn said, his voice low.

Mitaka glanced back to find Finn already looking at him, an unreadable expression on his face. Mitaka opened his mouth, then closed it again, unsure what he’d even been meaning to say. What did Finn mean by that? For a second they just stared at each other, the air between them heavy with tension like the atmosphere just before a lightning storm. Finn leant closer, and for a second Mitaka thought he was going to-

He heard the click of heels crossing the glass floor. Mitaka turned, and saw a tall, richly-dressed woman coming toward them. She was in her late forties or early fifties, and had a stiff, unnaturally pristine look about her that suggested she spent more on her looks in a month than Mitaka made in a year. She was clearly heading straight for them.

Despite how much it made his skin crawl, Mitaka turned fully and gave her a polite bow. “I must assume you are our host,” he said, keeping his tone polite as possible.

“And you must be Kanata’s guests,” the woman said, coming to a stop about a metre away. Her eyes lingered over them both for a moment, and it didn’t seem that she liked what she saw. “I must say it was a surprise to find _she_ was working for the Republic.”

She clearly suspected that was a lie and hoped to surprise them with it, but Mitaka had spent too long working for Hux and Ren to let any emotion show on his face. “War makes odd bedfellows,” he said.

She raised an eyebrow. “The New Republic isn’t at war.”

“Not yet.”

Her lips twitched, but she didn’t really smile. “Maybe so. And I was also surprised to see you here, Finn. Jumped ship, have we?”

“Doing some freelance work,” Finn said, which Mitaka thought was a fairly neutral answer, under the circumstances.

“Quite,” the woman said, pursing her lips.

“Forgive me, but you seem to have us at a disadvantage,” Mitaka said.

“Really? Then apparently Kanata forgot to introduce her hosts.” The woman’s lips formed a little moue of displeasure. “I am Lady Maratelle Ticomo.”

“Charmed,” Mitaka said, even as a tickling sense of familiarity began in the back of his mind. Where had he heard the name Maratelle before?

She kept speaking, saying something about a party and important guests and New Republic jurisdictions; Mitaka nodded along, but inside his mind was whirring. What was so important about that name?

The answer came in a sudden flash. _Not Maratelle Ticomo - Maratelle_ Hux.

This was Brendol Hux’s former wife - the woman he’d jilted and insulted by having an affair with a kitchen woman and then openly adopting his illegitimate son.

 _I took the trouble to find someone who might be able to help you,_ Maz had said. But by all accounts Maratelle and Armitage had hated each other - there was no way he’d have come to her looking for help or sanctuary. So why would she be able to help?

Then the memory came to him, and the answer was suddenly so obvious that Mitaka couldn’t help groaning aloud.

The memory was as clear as the crystal chandeliers adorning the vaulted ceilings of the ballroom. It had been the first big strategy meeting Mitaka attended, and he’d tried to make himself unobtrusive, hiding in a corner to take notes. He’d been so nervous he almost threw up in the fresher two minutes before he forced himself to walk into the room. Not only were many prominent, high-ranking officers in attendance, but Snoke, the Supreme Leader himself, had made the journey here just to attend this meeting.

Hux had not seemed nervous. He presented his strategy for taking the planet Zeria clearly and concisely, and didn’t seem fazed when Ren started badgering him with criticisms about the part of the mission where their forces were to launch an ambush on the surface of one of Zeria’s moons. “The whole moon is taboo for the Zerians,” Hux had explained. “If any of them landed there, they would be excommunicated. That makes it the perfect place to hide our forces.”

“But they have to know they’re giving up the tactical advantage by refusing to land there or defend that moon. Surely they’d allow an exception to their religious beliefs this one time?” Ren had argued.

Hux had looked like he wanted to retort with something sharp and cutting, but it was at that moment that Snoke had stepped in. “Don’t underestimate the power a place might hold over a being, or the evil memories it may conjure,” he’d said. “After all, was that not how your uncle was hidden from discovery by his protectors?”

The room had gone completely still. No one else would have dared to mention Ren’s family; even Hux had looked surprised. Ren’s face had gone completely blank, and he didn’t respond.

“It was Vader’s aversion to the planet Tatooine that kept Luke Skywalker safe there all those years, was it not?” Snoke had continued, a sly grin splitting his face. He enjoyed twisting the knife; liked watching his underlings squirm.

Ren’s only response was a tight nod.

“Indeed. So let that be a lesson, all of you, on how to exploit your enemies’ weaknesses.”

Everyone else had murmured acquiescence, but Mitaka had been watching Hux. He’d looked thoughtful, like he’d just realised something that had never occurred to him before. At the time Mitaka had been puzzled - Snoke’s words had been more about humiliating Kylo Ren than imparting any wisdom to the officers in the room, who all certainly knew how to effectively manipulate their enemies - but now he thought he had an inkling of what Hux had really been thinking about.

“Is something wrong?” Maratelle asked. Clearly she wasn’t happy about being interrupted.

“I know where he is,” Mitaka said, speaking more to Finn than to her.

Finn looked thunderstruck. “You- you do? Right now?”

“I just put the pieces together. And that’s why we’re here, that’s why Lady Ticomo can help us - because he’s gone back to Arkanis.”

Finn looked confused, but Maratelle’s gaze sharpened. “You’re looking for Armitage,” she said.

“Maz didn’t tell you?” Mitaka asked.

“I’d guessed, but she wouldn’t admit to it.” Maratelle frowned. “What makes you think he’s gone to Arkanis?”

“We all know he hated that planet - spent the worst years of his life there - so we’d assume he’d never go back, and thus we wouldn’t look there. He’s relying on us assuming he hates the planet too much to go back.”

“That does make some sort of sense,” Maratelle said.

“It makes more sense than Parnassos,” Mitaka said. “Listen, Finn, see if you can’t get hold of Dameron and turn him and the others around, send them to Arkanis.”

“Will do,” Finn said, and then he was off, sprinting towards their ship and the long-range comms device.

“Meanwhile, if I could ask you, Lady Ticomo, to tell me anything that might help us - maybe you could make a map-”

“You think he’s gone back to the Hux mansion?” she asked.

“I mean, technically he owns it, doesn’t he?”

“Yes. Very well; come with me.” Maratelle turned and swept back into the castle.

Mitaka followed her, buzzing with excitement. He’d as good as solved the mystery; if they found Hux on Arkanis, he’d be able to go home. The thought of it was exhilarating, but also a little bit sad in a way Mitaka definitely did not want to examine. Just like he’d rather banish the thought of what, exactly, Finn would have done if Maratelle hadn’t interrupted them- He shook his head, as if the physical movement would dislodge the thought from his brain.

Maratelle led him to a study, where she summoned a maid to bring refreshments as she began to sketch on a datapad. “The house has a lot of built-in security systems, including a shield generator,” she said, sketching out its radius. “The operations centre is _here_ , and that’s where you’ll find the controls to all these things.”

“Right in the heart of the building, of course,” Mitaka said.

“Naturally,” Maratelle said, accepting a cup of caf from the maid, who’d reappeared with their refreshments. “Now, with these systems, you’ll want-”

Mitaka only saw the maid out the corner of his eye - but he still recognised the distinctive movement of a blaster being drawn. “Get down!” he yelled, diving behind the table.

Maratelle dived, too, and Mitaka heard a blaster bolt go streaking by above his head. Maratelle was on the floor on the other side of the table; he saw an arm come down and grab hers, dragging her upward, while the maid used her other hand to press the barrel of the blaster to Maratelle’s temple. “One wrong move and I blow her brains out, First Order scum.”

 _Kriff_. Mitaka wasn’t even armed, and he doubted there were any weapons in here beside that blaster. He’d have to play for time - maybe Finn would finish his call and come back. Even as he thought it he knew it was a long shot. “What do you want?” he said loudly, just about keeping his voice from shaking.

“I’m taking the woman,” the maid snapped. “And you’re just going to lie there and let me, unless you want a bolt through your head.”

Mitaka cast about frantically, looking for anything that might- he stopped, his eye caught on something on the table above. A button?

The door hissed open, and for a second Mitaka thought help had arrived; then he heard the woman say, “Oh, you got here.”

“I told you I would assist,” another voice said - a droid’s voice. _XE’s voice_. Mitaka felt a wash of anger flood through him. That backstabbing-

“He’s round there,” the woman said, and Mitaka heard XE’s footsteps. Without pausing to wonder about what it might do, Mitaka reached up and pressed the button on the underside of the table.

A low whirring hum filled the room. Mitaka saw XE round the end of the table, her blue eyes focusing in on him. “Whatever you have just done was a mistake, Lieutenant Mitaka,” she said, raising her left arm. As he watched, the hand retracted and telescoped until he was looking down the barrel of a blaster.

But even as she centred it on his forehead, Mitaka could see the wall opening behind her. Something slithered out of the hole, black and sleek and sinuous in a way that didn’t seem possible for something made of metal. _A security droid._ “Fuck you, XE,” he spat, and relished the droid’s look of anger for about two seconds before the security droid’s black limbs caught her around the neck and twisted her metal head off.

More security droids were dropping from every wall; Mitaka heard the woman scream, and then the sound of her blaster discharging several times. The door opened, and Mitaka threw himself into a standing position just in time to see Maratelle being dragged through the door - by Lieutenant Chirmar. He froze, shocked, and locked eyes with her for just a second before the door closed, just long enough for a look of utter contempt to spread across her face. Then the door closed, and Mitaka was alone in the room.

Chirmar had managed to shoot two of the droids, but the another three were up and running, humming as they scanned the room for threats. “Out there!” Mitaka told them, pointing at the door, “She’s taken Lady Ticomo!”

The droids just stared at him stupidly, and he cursed; they were either not voice-activated, or they only responded to Maratelle. He dashed for the door. It opened in time for him to see Chirmar and Maratelle disappearing around a corner; he ran after them, pulling out his commlink as he did so. “Finn? Are you there?”

Nothing. Mitaka felt a stab of worry in his gut. They hadn’t checked the _Helios_ for stowaways before takeoff, assuming they were safe from that particular threat when taking off from a friendly base. If Chirmar had been hiding somewhere on board, and then encountered Finn on her way out…

Mitaka tried him again, but there was still no answer. He ran as fast as he could, but his leisurely lifestyle of the past few years was starting to show; even in the excessively long corridors he was only catching glimpses of Chirmar as she got farther and farther ahead. It was only realising that she was taking the route toward the ballroom that allowed him to follow without losing her. She was already out on the balcony when he threw open the door. Impossibly, he could see a ship hovering over the balcony, lowering it’s ramp to meet her. How had that got past the castle’s defences? Mitaka ran, pushing himself, but he was far too slow; by the time he reached the balcony doors Chirmar had already pushed Maratelle up into the ship, and the ramp was closing as the ship began to pull away toward the open sky. As it went, Mitaka caught a glimpse of one more familiar face; Captain Amshre was standing at the top of the ramp, and Mitaka saw his expression shift to surprise for just a moment before the ramp closed and the ship roared away over the ocean.

In the quiet after it disappeared, Mitaka could hear panicked, shouting voices, but Mitaka only cared about one thing.

Where was Finn?

/

An hour later, Mitaka was sitting in the _Helios’_ medbay, with Finn asleep on the single bed. Someone, maybe Chirmar but more probably XE, had administered a shot of anaesthesia to him, which he was now sleeping off. The castle’s medical droid had assured him Finn would be completely fine, but Mitaka felt like his heart hadn’t slowed down since the moment he’d discovered Finn lying face down on the crew lounge couch. Of course for a second he’d assumed the worst, but a quick check of his pulse had assured Mitaka that he wasn’t dead. Now, though, he felt lost. Part of him said the only logical thing to do was start for Arkanis right now, and make up some plan of action along the way; the scared, cowardly part of him whispered that now was the time to leave Finn with Kanata, take the _Helios_ and get back to Kuat while he had the chance. After all, he’d come this close to getting shot by a crazed droid, and this wasn’t even _his_ rebel movement he almost died for, was it? But every time he glanced at Finn’s sleeping face and imagined how it would look if he woke up to find Mitaka had abandoned him, the guilt left him rooted to his chair. At the same time, he couldn’t quite gather the courage to stand up and go to the cockpit; even the thought made him feel ill.

Another half hour passed before Maz entered the room and instantly fixed him with a glare. “What are you still doing hanging around here, huh?”

“I-” Mitaka started, but stopped. He didn’t have an excuse.

“Every minute you spend sitting here is a minute closer to the rogue factions getting their hands on Hux,” Maz said.

“And what if they do?” Mitaka asked, feeling anger suddenly bubble up to the surface. “They’re not going to let him go, are they? He won’t get back to the First Order. What’s the difference?”

Maz looked like she wanted to slap him. “You _know_ the difference, Dopheld Mitaka. You know what people like that do with their prisoners.”

Mitaka looked away. “Maybe that’s what he deserves,” he muttered.

Maz made a disgusted sound. “Could you live with knowing your inaction led to a man being tortured? Even a man like that? You won’t be able to ignore it, Mitaka - trust me, it’ll be televised. In every gory detail.” When he didn’t reply, she continued, “Even if you _can_ live with that, there are other concerns. Their whole movement is a disorganised mess - a vicious, dangerous mess, but a mess nonetheless. You think people like that can hold onto Hux for long?”

“I wouldn’t call Amshre and Chirmar the bottom of the barrel.”

“There have to be a few competent members to hold the rest of those pirates in check,” Maz snapped. “And if neither of those convince you, consider why the Republic didn’t kill him themselves when they had the chance, huh?”

“They wanted information out of him, obviously,” Mitaka said.

“Information that will die forever if you let Amshre and Chirmar take him.”

Mitaka let out a frustrated noise. “So I have to risk my neck against the First Order _and_ rogue Resistance fighters to save the life of the one man I hate more than anyone else in the galaxy?”

Maz smiled humourlessly. “That’s the cold hard reality of war, kid.” She jerked a thumb over her shoulder, clearly ordering him to the cockpit. “And if none of those convince you, imagine what Finn would say if he were awake.”

Mitaka glanced over at Finn’s sleeping face for a second before sighing heavily. “He’d want to go after them.”

“Damn right he would.”

Mitaka got up. “I hate this, just so you know.”

“You don’t,” Maz said, grinning at him. “You’re just nervous. But you’re gonna do fine.” Her grin widened. “If it makes you feel better, I heard Hux’s interrogators were close to getting approved to use a Mairan on him before he escaped.”

The image of Hux struggling in the slimy grip of the huge, tentacled creature as it read his mind did bring a certain morbid satisfaction. “You know, that does lift my mood somewhat,” Mitaka said.

“Good. Get going; you’ve no time to lose.”

Mitaka started for the cockpit, but paused at the door. “There is one more… complication.” He jerked his head at Finn. “He wants to take Hux back to the Resistance - the other Resistance, I mean. I don’t know how I’m going to convince him to hand Hux over to the New Republic.”

Maz’s lips twisted. “Deal with that when you come to it. After all this…” Maz shook her head. “Everything might be different by the time you get your hands on him, so worry about it then.”

“Right.” Mitaka took another step, but one more question was niggling at his brain. “You’re not _really_ working for the New Republic, are you?”

Maz laughed. “I’m like you; I further their interests, but I don’t get a paycheck out of it.”

“So we’re both risking our lives for free. Are we crazy?”

“No - we’re trying to stop the First Order. Now go!” She flapped her hands at him, shooing him out the door.

/

Mitaka had gone through the startup cycle, seeing the ramp light flick on and off as Maz presumably used it to let herself out; then he’d taken them up, set course for Arkanis, and put them into hyperspace. That done, he’d left the autopilot at the controls and gone back to the medbay to sit with Finn.

Where he’d apparently fallen asleep, because Finn was now shaking him awake. “Mitaka? What happened? We’re flying?”

Mitaka blinked at him for a second, uncomprehending. Then he remembered that Finn had been knocked unconscious before Chirmar and XE had kidnapped Maratelle; he wasn’t aware of anything that had happened afterward. “It’s a long story - you may want to sit down.”

After Mitaka finished, Finn was silent for a long time, staring at the opposite wall, his expression blank. “I’m sorry,” Mitaka added, “I know you trusted them.”

“I did,” Finn said, letting out a long sigh. “Do you think Commander Isle knows?”

“Amshre was trying to hide the fact that I’d been kidnapped by his faction from her, so I’d guess not.”

“That’s something, at least.” Finn sat up straighter, seeming to shake off his melancholy. “So. Do we have a plan?”

Mitaka grimaced. “Not really. I did manage to get some information from Maratelle before Chirmar kidnapped her, though. I know where the mansion is, that it’s guarded with a shield generator, and where to turn that generator off.”

“So we infiltrate and turn the shield generator off, allowing Poe and the others to come in from the air.”

“You did manage to get hold of him, then?” Finn nodded. Mitaka hesitated for a second before saying, “You might want to check in with him again. If people like Chirmar and Amshre could fly under the radar, maybe there’s more of them. They could undermine him at the worst possible moment.”

Finn looked ill at the thought. “Yeah, I’ll do that.” He stepped toward the door, suddenly full of nervous energy. “Er, maybe you could-”

“I’ll work on our infiltration plan,” Mitaka said, waving him out the door. A minute later he followed, seating himself at the crew lounge table with a datapad for notes.

Infiltration had never been his strong suit, but that wasn’t why Mitaka couldn’t focus. Something about Finn’s urgency to contact Dameron and his group had bothered him, just as the low, worried tones he could now hear from the cockpit bothered him. He didn’t want to examine those feelings in more detail, but the more he ignored it, the more obvious it was. _You are not_ jealous _, Mitaka. You’re not a five year old. Yes, Finn has other friends, and he’s worried about them, and that’s_ fine. Mitaka forced himself to focus on the datapad, trying not to think about how the reason he resented Poe Dameron in particular might be because he looked at Finn as something more than a friend.

Finn reappeared a few minutes later. “He’s going to be on the lookout for it,” he said, flopping down into a chair. “Obviously there’s no real way to find out for sure.”

“Not until they’ve got a blaster to your back,” Mitaka said, still focused on his datapad.

“Do you have anything?” Finn asked, clearly wanting to distract himself.

“Well I’ve heard ‘dress up as a stormtrooper’ is a classic.”

Finn raised an eyebrow at him. “Seriously?”

Mitaka sat back, running a hand over his face. Staring at the screen was giving him a headache. “All of this might be for nothing if Amshre and Chirmar get there first. I get the feeling they’re not the type to go in quietly.”

“No,” Finn said heavily, his gaze distant.

“So we might be walking into a firefight.”

Finn looked up at him with a wry smile. “I get the feeling you’re suggesting we just play it by ear.”

“Well…” Mitaka hesitated. “Maybe we do. If Amshre and the others have already attacked the mansion, we’ll just have to go in all guns blazing - this thing does _have_ guns, doesn’t it?” Finn nodded. “Right. And if they haven’t we’ll have to do some recon before deciding on the best method of infiltration.”

“Stormtroopers?” Finn asked distastefully.

“The helmets would hide both our faces - and we’re both recognisable.”

Finn made a face, then gave a huge yawn. “You should get some rest,” Mitaka said, “You look exhausted.”

“Yeah, I am,” Finn said. Still, he hesitated for a moment, his eyes flicking toward the cockpit.

“Go,” Mitaka said, “I’m not going to hijack the ship while you’re asleep. You can lock the cockpit if you want.”

“No, no,” Finn shook his head and got up. “I mean, you’ve come this far, right?”

“Right,” Mitaka said, and smiled at him as he went off to bed.

His motivation in encouraging Finn to get some sleep was totally innocent - at least at first. But the longer he sat there, the more he thought about the open door to the cockpit, and all the instruments sitting unguarded in there. He’d made his decision about his own involvement - he’d had his chance to back out, and he’d never forgive himself if he cut and run now - and more importantly, neither would Finn. But that didn’t mean they had to go in with only Dameron and his squadron as backup.

He sat for a long time in an agony of indecision, trying to convince himself that it wouldn’t be a betrayal. Because it would be betraying Finn’s trust, not to mention the fact that it might get him arrested.

In the end what swayed him was one simple thought. What if they died? What if he’d had the chance to bring in forces that could’ve turned the tide, but because he hesitated, Finn got killed?

There was only one answer to that.

Moving as quietly as he could, Mitaka snuck out of the crew lounge and down the corridor. The cockpit was completely unguarded; he shut the door behind him and settled down in the co-pilot’s seat before flicking on the long-range comms system.

Years ago when he’d first turned himself over to Republic Intelligence, Baxom had given him an emergency comm channel and a code, and made him memorise them both. If he ever got into trouble of any sort, he was supposed to call and give his code, and the RIB would offer what support it could. He’d never had to make the call before, so he had no idea what to expect.

It hummed and clicked for a long time before someone picked up on the other end. “Your code?” said a stiff, female voice.

“The plains on Lothal turn gold in springtime,” Mitaka recited.

“Please hold.” There was another long silence before the woman said, “Code accepted. Transferring you to an encrypted channel.” After another series of hisses and clicks, a male voice said, “Is that Mitaka?”

The voice was familiar, but Mitaka had to think for a minute before he could place it. “Yes - is that Officer Matsgoa?”

“Yes, the same. I must say it’s good to hear from you, Mr Mitaka. We had feared the worst.”

“No, I’m fine - but Officer, I have some important information that you need to hear immediately.”

“Hux?” Matsgoa asked sharply.

“Yes - I believe he’s hiding at the old Hux family mansion on Arkanis.”

Matsgoa swore quietly. “Right in plain sight,” he muttered. “You’re sure about this, Mitaka?”

“Not a hundred per cent, but sure enough. But there’s a complication. There are groups of Resistance fighters on their way to Arkanis as we speak.” As quickly as he could, Mitaka laid out the situation with the radical Resistance factions, and how many groups would be converging on Arkanis in the near future. “I don’t know what you can do, Officer - and I’m afraid I won’t have access to a comm to keep you updated, but-”

“This is more than good enough, Mr Mitaka. You say you’re on your way there as well?” he added, his tone concerned.

“I am, Officer. If I do find a way to contact you, I will.”

“That’s not what I mean. You’re going to be in great danger, Mr Mitaka-”

“I’m prepared, Officer.”

“You’re not cleared for combat or espionage missions,” Matsgoa said reluctantly.

“I used to be,” Mitaka said, suddenly fighting a strange urge to laugh. “Don’t worry about me, Officer. Just get someone there - anyone you can.”

“It’ll be more than ‘anyone’,” Matsgoa said darkly. “I have to go, Mitaka - I need to get this information to head office - but look after yourself out there. I’ll send out an APB to inform our personnel to offer you all possible assistance if they meet you.”

“Thank you, Officer. Goodbye.” The channel cut, and for a long time Mitaka sat staring at the machine. Had he done the right thing? Surely he had. There could be no downside to having more firepower in a fight against the First Order, could there? And it meant there would be a Republic representative waiting to take custody of Hux, if they got to him.

But what if they wanted to take custody of Finn, too?

He sighed and turned away from the comms, shifting his gaze to the swirling blue of hyperspace outside the viewport. Good or bad, it was done now; they’d just have to see how things shaped up.

/

The pinging of the hyperspace alarm woke him. He’d fallen asleep in an awkward position, curled up in the co-pilot’s chair, and his neck protested as he straightened up into a sitting position. _I’ll be feeling that for the next few hours_ , he thought, scanning the board in front of him. He registered the flashing light that indicated an imminent realspace reversion, checked the navicomp, and saw that they were about to pop out of hyperspace and into the Arkanis system. A flash of nerves went through him, and his hand felt clammy as he gripped the hyperspace lever. _Here goes nothing_.

The ship popped out of hyperspace and into a warzone.

The scanners began pinging instantly, registering other ships and weapon discharges all around Arkanis. Mitaka slowed down hard, keeping the _Helios_ on the outer edge of the system. He moved into the pilot’s chair and brought up the holomap, scanning it and taking stock of the situation. Seeing the sheer number of ships on the display, he reached over and flipped on the ship’s general alarm system, apologising in his head to Finn as he did so. Being jerked awake by the wail of an alarm wasn’t fun for anyone, but there was no way he could leave the controls at a moment like this.

Ringed around Arkanis were the expected starfighters, converted freighters and other small ships belonging to the Resistance, as well as what looked like several New Republic patrol ships and one light cruiser. This motley collection was facing off against the hulking, brutal shape of a First Order Star Destroyer.

Mitaka saw immediately that someone had landed several lucky hits on the Destroyer, taking out its front portside cannon emplacements and damaging one of its engines; this seemed to be the reason it hadn’t managed to break through the blockade yet. On the opposite side, the New Republic light cruiser was clearly damaged as well, its sides blackened in the wake of extinguished fires and its shields flickering and wavering.

Mitaka tried to calm the thoughts racing through his head and think clearly. If the Destroyer was trying to break through the defenders’ lines, that must mean they were attempting to rescue Hux from the surface - and that meant if Mitaka could somehow get past the blockade and to the mansion, they had a chance of getting to Hux before his backup did.

He was still thinking about it when Finn came barrelling into the cockpit, breathing hard. He took one look at the holomap, then sat down in the co-pilot’s chair. “Plan?”

“Need to run the blockade - or convince them to let us past.”

“Let me scan the codes - I might know someone.” Both of them waited in tense silence as Finn flipped through the list of transponder codes that had come up when they scanned the system, searching for any he recognised. “Bingo, here,” he said after a minute, “I know these guys.” _I didn’t know they were part of the other faction_ went unsaid, but Mitaka could see it in the drawn lines of pain on Finn’s face. “Gimme me a minute.”

It took more than a minute for the crew of the other ship to pick up; when they did, Mitaka could hear shouting and the dull _boom_ of ship cannon fire in the background. “Who the stang is this?” the operator snapped.

“Beal? It’s me, Finn.”

“Finn? Seriously? You looking to join the fight, buddy?”

“Looking to make a break for the surface and see if we can’t cut this short,” Finn said.

“Surface is even worse than up here - that shield’s solid as a rock, and the cannon emplacements are tearing our guys apart.”

“We’ll work it out,” Finn said tightly, “If we come in on vector five eight four, can you let us through?”

“I’ll do it, but I’m warning you buddy-”

“I know, I know. Trust me, I know what I’m doing.”

There was a scratchy laugh. “You always do. Okay, go for it. We’ll get out of your way.”

Finn nodded to Mitaka, and he punched the engines as Finn said, “Appreciate it Beal. See you on the other side.”

“For the Resistance!” Beal cried, and then the comm cut out.

“He didn’t sound like he suspected anything,” Mitaka said, angling the _Helios_ up onto the vector Finn had mentioned. It should allow them to thread the needle between the Star Destroyer’s range of fire and the crossfire from the blockade, and then let them slip through the Resistance ships to the ground.

“It might be more complicated than ‘our guys’ and ‘their guys’,” Finn said shortly. “Watch your three, that freighter’s moving.”

They continued like that, Mitaka flying and Finn watching the scanners, and managed to slip under the Star Destroyer’s radar. They were flying straight at an old but trim YT-2000 freighter, which at the last moment shifted position, allowing them to just screech past, through the blockade and down toward the green surface below. “That was closer than I liked,” Mitaka said, feeling like his stomach had turned itself inside out.

“That’s Beal,” Finn said. “Have we got a plan for getting through the shield? It’s no use knowing where the generator is if we can’t take it out.”

Right. The shield. Mitaka had been so focused on getting through the blockade in one piece, he’d forgotten Beal’s words about the mansion’s shield. “They’re not going to let anyone through while they’re under fire,” he said. The _Helios_ wobbled and bucked as they descended through Arkanis’ atmosphere.

“So we just have to convince the others to pull back? That’ll be easy,” Finn said, voice dripping with sarcasm.

“Just let me think a minute,” Mitaka snapped. There was something nagging at him, some piece of half-remembered information that hadn’t made it to the top of his brain.

The Destroyer was damaged, meaning it couldn’t run the blockade - and if the Destroyer couldn’t run the blockade- and none of the ships Hux might have on the surface were trying to-

“Transponder codes,” Mitaka said urgently. “First Order. Do you have any?”

“Yes,” Finn said, bringing up the ship’s computer. “What’s the plan?”

“Pose as a blockade runner,” Mitaka said, “The Destroyer’s too damaged, but we can say we got through.”

Finn was silent for a moment as he flicked through the entries in the ship’s database. They broke through the cloud layer and Mitaka levelled out, rolling farmland and small towns rushing by beneath them as they made for the glowing gold-yellow dome of energy clearly visible in the distance. “We’re coming up fast,” Mitaka snapped, seeing the shape of the mansion come into focus beneath the shield. As Beal had promised, starfighters dotted the sky, chased and occasionally felled by green laserfire from the cannon emplacements on the mansion’s roof.

“Got one,” Finn said, pressing a few buttons.

“Great. See if you can raise the house - but let me do the talking.”

The comms operator in the mansion picked up on the second tone. “ _FOS Taskmaster_ , slow your approach-”

“Requesting permission to enter the shield, sir,” Mitaka snapped, “We’re here to pick up the General and run the blockade to _FOSD_ _Cultivator_.”

For a moment there was nonplussed silence. “You- were you sent by Admiral Ontaka?” the voice asked.

“Yes sir - urgently need access, sir, coming up on shield now, multiple hostiles-”

“I need your code, pilot.”

“Sir, multiple hostiles moving in on my position-”

“Your _code_ , pilot!”

They were coming up hard on the shield and all the codes Mitaka knew were five years out of date - but he recognised the officer’s voice. Deciding to throw caution to the wind, he snapped, “Do you want my code or do you want everyone to know about that _holiday_ on Zeltron, Major Flosro?”

There was a choking noise. “You _can’t_ \- how do you-”

“I hear it was wild - just how much spice-”

“Opening the shield!” Flosro gasped, and like magic a clear hole opened in the dome of energy. Mitaka was distantly aware of other starfighters swooping toward it, but he was through and the hole closed before any of them made it in behind him. Their scanners lit up as one ploughed into the space where the gap had been, but the shield protected them from the shockwave or any debris. Mitaka slowed hard, throwing the _Helios_ into a tight turn around the roof of the mansion. A wide landing platform appeared beneath them, populated only by three First Order shuttles. Mitaka set the _Helios_ down with a bump, then jumped out of his seat. “Let’s not hang about,” he snapped.

“ _How_ did that work?” Finn gasped as he followed him down the corridor. “You just- First Order officers _never_ buckle under pressure like that.”

“If you knew what Flosro did on Zeltron you wouldn’t be so surprised,” Mitaka said. “We need blasters.”

Finn popped open a storage locker in the crew lounge and handed him a blaster rifle. “You good with that?”

“Perfect. Let’s get into the building before anyone realises what’s happened.” Mitaka triggered the ramp release.

“Hold on- we’re just going in, no disguises-”

“About two seconds after letting us through the shield Flosro will have realised what he’s done, and instead of making himself look like an idiot, he’ll be coming down here with a squad of troopers to silence us.” The ramp hit the ground, and Mitaka scanned the landing field, rifle up. “Which is why we have to make ourselves scarce.”

“And the ship?”

“Who knows. There are three others out here.”

“This is _my_ ship, y’know,” Finn grumbled.

“Sorry.” Mitaka waved them forward, and they ran from the ramp of the _Helios_ over to cover behind a stack of crates. “Can you see anyone?” Mitaka asked, scanning his own half of the landing platform.

“No one,” Finn replied, “And no place to hide, either.”

“We’ll have to go from ship to ship, then.”

Checking one more time for enemies, they made a run from the crates to the open ramp of the nearest shuttle. Mitaka was up the ramp and in the cargo hold before he registered the clanking of metal against metal, which meant he and the stormtrooper stacking munitions in the storage locker were equally surprised to see each other.

Luckily, Finn was quick enough on the draw that the trooper was hit by a stun blast before he even pulled out his sidearm.

Mitaka was still blinking down at the prone figure when a voice called, “Pras?” The sliding door to the cockpit opened, revealing another stormtrooper. He had time to let out a wordless exclamation of surprise before Finn hit him with a stun blast as well.

After a moment of silence Mitaka said, “Looks like we can dress up as stormtroopers after all.”

“Seriously?”

“You said you wanted a disguise.”

“Ugh.” Finn picked up the nearest stormtrooper in a fireman’s carry. “I’ll take the cockpit.”

About halfway into changing, Mitaka realised that putting on stormtrooper armour was a lot harder than he’d thought it would be. He’d managed to strip it all off the trooper, then removed his own outfit and squeezed into the skintight undersuit, but getting the rest of the armour on was proving to be a challenge.

“Need some help?”

He turned to see Finn, fully suited up, watching him with a smile. “Be fair,” Mitaka huffed, straightening and putting his hands on his hips, “This is a lot tougher to get on than an officer’s uniform.”

“I suppose I can concede that point,” Finn said, stepping forward. “Let me help you there a minute.”

It did go much faster with Finn’s help - though Mitaka had to ignore a lot of breathless embarrassment when his hands brushed over more intimate places. Finn was very polite about it, and it ended with the two of them suited up and ready - and Mitaka staggering round the cargo bay of the shuttle, trying to get used to the wealth of information displayed on the HUD inside the helmet. “I can see in front _and_ behind me at the same time.”

“It takes a while to get used to - just focus on the forward view.”

“The screen moves about when I move my _eyes_ -”

“Just try not to- just don’t move your eyes too much, okay? And don’t click your teeth.”

“Don’t click my _teeth_?”

“That activates comm channels,” Finn said. Then he motioned for Mitaka to be quiet. “I can hear footsteps.”

The two of them dropped, raising their rifles, Mitaka trying to ignore the sickening sensation of the double-vision camera views inside the helmet. Now they were quiet, he could hear the footsteps too; the unmistakable tread of marching stormtroopers. “Surround the ship!” he heard Flosro’s voice cry.

“Once they find the ship empty they’ll search this one,” Mitaka said in a whisper.

“We’ll have to make it to the door. On my signal.” They both waited, Mitaka almost not daring to breathe. Then Finn hissed, “ _Move_ ,” and they went, sprinting down the ramp and into view. Finn raised his rifle and fired a stun round, and then they were rounding the next shuttle in line to hide themselves from view. Mitaka kept expecting to get shot in the back, but they made it to the door into the mansion and through into a quiet, wood-panelled hallway. “Who did you shoot?” he asked, gasping slightly from the run.

“Four went inside with the officer, one went round the other side of the ship, so I took my chance,” Finn said. “Come on, let’s get further in. Straighten your shoulders a bit; walk taller. That’s it.”

Mitaka’s heart was thundering in his chest, but he tried to force himself to be calm, to imitate the way he’d seen stormtroopers march with their smart pace and heads held high. He wasn’t quite sure he had it, but Finn didn’t complain, so it must have been good enough.

The halls of the Hux family mansion were oddly quiet; only the faintest of noises came in from the battle outside. _The soundproofing must be impeccable,_ Mitaka thought. Everything was sumptuously decorated, but also covered in a thick layer of dust, the colours faded and sun-bleached. The family had had to leave in a hurry once the Empire fell, and to Mitaka’s knowledge no one had been back since. It was probably only the expensive security system that had kept the place from being looted. They didn’t run into anyone else, but the mansion was so big and twisting that it took Mitaka a long time to reconcile the complicated corridors with the relatively simple map Maratelle had drawn out.

When they finally did find the control room, there were two stormtroopers guarding the door.

Finn stopped him a corridor away. “Alright, walk fast, like urgently, but don’t run. Let me do the talking.”

Mitaka followed his advice, just about managing to keep pace with Finn’s long strides as the two of them advanced down the corridor. “Troopers,” Finn said, his voice suddenly laced with authority, “Has anyone been into and out of this room in the last hour?”

“No one, sir,” the trooper on the left said. There was nothing to distinguish Finn from any other trooper; Mitaka assumed the sheer force of authority in his voice must have made these strangers assume he was of higher rank.

“Is something wrong, sir?” the other trooper asked.

“There’s been a possible incident on the landing platform,” Finn said. “We’ll just need to take a look around. And how long has it been since you were relieved, trooper?”

The troopers began to shift awkwardly on their feet. “I- it has been over six hours, sir.”

“That’s over standard shift limit.”

“I know, sir, but as there aren’t many troopers on base-”

“I’ll call it in and get someone to replace you. In the meantime, get back to the barracks; we’ll be in the room, so it’ll be guarded.”

The troopers both saluted, then turned and marched off down the corridor.

When they’d disappeared around the corner, Mitaka whispered, “Now _I’m_ impressed. How did you know they would listen to you?”

Finn pointed at something on the side of his helmet. “See the code? Means I’m higher rank.”

Mitaka hadn’t noticed it before, but there were faint numbers and letters in a row on the side of the helmet. They seemed to glow slightly in the blue field of the helmet’s screen. “I’ve never seen those before.”

“They’re easier to see with the trooper helmet’s vision filter.” Finn opened the door to the Operations Centre. As promised, the room was empty aside from the consoles and dimly glowing lights. The two of them hurried inside and shut the door behind them.

Mitaka scanned the room. It was split into two parts; the first half held the consoles that controlled the alarm systems, the heat detection sensors and the motion activated lasers, as well as the monitors that would have allowed a security officer to watch any part of the house from this one room. The other section of the room, accessed through a narrow corridor, would house the shield controls. “I hope you know how to shut down a shield generator,” he said.

“I’m on it. Watch the door?” Mitaka nodded, and Finn went off through the little corridor, leaving Mitaka alone with the monitors and the softly blinking lights.

He caught a flash of movement on the monitors, and went closer. He could see everything in the house from here; a commotion on the landing platform as Flosro berated a stormtrooper, a few humans who looked like kitchen staff putting together a meal, and stormtroopers and an officer on the roof, manning the gun emplacements. They were very short-staffed; the cannons were supposed to be manned by a complement of three per gun, whereas these stormtroopers were often manning them solo. The officer up there was a junior lieutenant, quite clearly a very nervous rookie abandoned by Flosro when he went to the landing platform. Aside from the stormtroopers now searching the landing platform with the Major, the only other troopers Mitaka could see were the two they’d dismissed, now marching smartly down a corridor, and three others trying to catch some sleep in a servants’ room that had been converted into temporary barracks. Hux had obviously been hoping to fly very far under the radar if he’d only brought this tiny group of soldiers along to guard him.

Speaking of Hux…

Mitaka looked from monitor to monitor, and eventually struck gold. The room looked like a very fancy living room - the ‘drawing room’, as his parents had insisted on calling it. Hux was pacing back and forth in front of three large picture windows, gesticulating wildly, probably giving another of his impromptu angry speeches - but he wasn’t alone. Finn and Mitaka had guessed almost a week ago that Leia Organa had been kidnapped by the First Order, and now here she sat, looking comfortable and serene on a low couch, cup of caf in hand. But it wasn’t her that gave Mitaka pause; it was the figure sitting opposite. Black-robed but for once not in his helmet, the angry, brooding figure of Kylo Ren looked almost comical as he sat in an armchair and glared daggers at his mother.

Mitaka felt sick. There had been a chance of recapturing Hux, but Ren? The General was one thing, but the dark Force user was quite another.

A hiss of pain from the other room broke him out of his thoughts. “Are you alright?” he called, worried.

“Fine - just a little booby trap in the system. Managed to get my hand out. It’ll take a bit longer to shut down, that’s all.”

Mitaka considered telling him about Ren and Leia, but decided he’d let him focus on his task. There was no one else in the vast mansion, and from what he could see of the outside, the starfighters had retreated somewhat, giving the gun emplacements a reprieve.

He scanned the other monitors and consoles for anything of importance. One console in the corner was displaying the First Order’s crest on its monitor, slowly spinning. Mitaka felt his heart lift; it couldn’t be connected to the First Order’s network? Surely they wouldn’t be that careless? Or maybe, he thought as he woke the console up, they just assumed it would be safe, down here in the heart of the mansion.

It was exactly what he thought it was; a direct connection to the entire First Order network and database. He’d have to have a code for the top-level encrypted intel, but there was a wealth of information he could download off the system without a code. If only he had… He cast around, and his eyes lighted on a datastick sitting on a nearby table. Bingo. He slotted it into the machine, then set to downloading anything of importance he could find; troop rotations, supply line information, population distribution, planetary information…

He heard footsteps from the generator room, and without thinking about it he pulled the datastick out and hid it in his pocket. A moment later, as Finn walked out and grinned at him, announcing, “I did it! Shield should be down any second now!”, Mitaka wondered why he’d felt the need to hide. Why should Finn not know that he was downloading potentially helpful intel on the First Order?

 _Because it’s my insurance policy_ , Mitaka thought. He’d never felt ashamed of bartering information for his own personal gain before, but now, looking at Finn, he somehow felt guilty.

The hum that had pervaded the room moments before flickered and died; on the screens, Mitaka saw the shield begin to fracture and disappear. The reaction was instant; the stormtroopers began to buzz about like a disturbed fireant hive, while Hux in the drawing room stood gesturing at the windows, red in the face.

Mitaka pointed to that particular monitor. “We were right about Leia, but we have a problem,” he said. “A lightsaber-wielding problem.”

Finn’s triumph evaporated as he saw Ren on the monitor. “ _Stang_.”

“Exactly. What do we do now? Can you contact Dameron, see how far away he is?”

Finn shook his head. “Not from here - but those starfighters will have seen the shield come down. They’ll be back in a minute.”

“They might bring the whole place down on top of us.”

“Mayb- they’re moving,” Finn said, looking back at the monitor.

Mitaka looked too, and saw that Ren was up out of his seat, heading for the door. “He’s coming down here to check on the generator.”

“Right - so if we can avoid him and get to Hux and Leia…”

“We have no idea where that room is, Finn.” Mitaka bit his lip. “Maybe it’s best to get out now, while we can…”

“I’m not leaving Leia behind,” Finn said, and his tone brooked no argument. He pulled Mitaka along with him as he left the Operations Centre and jogged along the corridor outside. “That room had big windows - maybe it’s on an upper floor?”

“It could be literally anywhere - and we could run into Ren around any one of these corners,” Mitaka said, feeling sick fear churn in his gut.

“I’ve come out of a battle with him before. We can do it.”

“If I remember correctly, there was a _Jedi_ with you in that battle, and-”

Finn suddenly stopped and turned to him. “Helmet,” he said, taking his off.

Slowly, Mitaka removed his own. “What?”

Finn unexpectedly reached forward and caught the side of Mitaka’s neck. “Don’t lose your head,” he said quietly, staring deep into Mitaka’s eyes. “Stay with me, okay? We can do this.”

Mitaka couldn’t breathe. All he could see was Finn’s eyes - deep brown, earnest, sincere, beautiful…

“You with me?” Finn asked softly. Mitaka could barely nod. Finn’s hand was so warm on his neck… his face was so close. Was Finn going to- Mitaka realised he _wanted_ him to-

Then Finn dropped his hand and pulled back. “Okay. Remember, we got this.” He put his helmet back on. Mitaka hurriedly pulled his own back on, if only to hide the dazed expression he was sure must be on his face.

“It probably is on an upper floor, you’re right,” he stuttered, eager to move on from whatever… _that_ had been.

They’d run down another few corridors and up a flight of stairs when the first round of fire from the starfighters hit. It made the building shake, almost throwing them off their feet. “Hurry,” Finn hissed.

The bombardment continued, making the building rock and shake as if it were in the grip of an earthquake, and still Mitaka and Finn found no sign of the drawing room they’d seen on the monitor. Eventually Mitaka grabbed Finn by the arm. “You disabled the shield generator, right? So they can’t just turn it back on again?” Finn nodded. “Without it, the house can’t stand up to repeated fire, so they’ll need to leave.”

Finn caught on in an instant. “The landing pad. It’s their only way out.”

“Right.” Mitaka grinned despite himself. “Race you back?”

The shaking only got worse as they sprinted back toward the landing platform; Mitaka could see long cracks forming in the walls, and the windows would occasionally shatter in explosive shards of flying glass, thankfully pattering harmlessly off their trooper armour.

The landing platform was a mess. One shuttle had taken a hit and lay in a partially exploded, smoking ruin at one end of the platform. Of the other two, one had disappeared, while one was still intact, being guarded by a group of stormtroopers. “I guess Flosro must have cut and run,” Mitaka said, taking stock of the scene. It turned out his earlier messy landing had worked to their advantage; coming in too fast meant the _Helios_ had bounced and slid quite a distance across the landing platform, taking it in under the overhanging roof of the house. It was scant protection from the incoming fire, but for now it was proving to be enough.

“We need to take care of those troopers and that shuttle,” Finn said. The troopers had noticed them and were waving. There were only two of them; one went down quick to Finn’s unexpected stun blast, and while the other tried to run, a second round caught him as he was going up the ramp. Finn took the standard issue detonators off their belts and said, “You drag them over there, out of the blast radius, while I set the ship to blow.”

Groaning, Mitaka dragged the two heavy troopers one at a time over to the opposite wall, where Finn joined him after a moment. The blast he triggered wasn’t huge, but he’d made sure to target the ship’s essential systems; it wouldn’t be going anywhere. “So now their only option is the _Helios_ ,” he said.

Sick realisation settled in Mitaka’s gut. “Wait. I didn’t think- we can’t let Ren get on the _Helios_ with us,” Mitaka said.

“We’re dressed in stormtrooper uniforms-”

“And what are we going to do, strangle him in his sleep? Being in a confined space with that man is a big no-no. You need to get on the comm and tell those starfighters that they have Hux and Ren cornered so they stop shooting.”

“I don’t think they particularly care about taking Hux in alive,” Finn said.

“Well their superiors surely do! Finn, we can’t let them on our ship; we need to stall them-”

“For what? Poe’s got X-wings, he doesn’t have the firepower to break through that blockade, and the radicals won’t help us-”

“They might! Just ask!”

“ _We_ need to do something, Mitaka! There’s no use waiting for anyone else because no one else is coming!”

“The Republic is coming!” Mitaka shouted, then wished he could bite his own tongue off.

Finn stopped. “The Republic?”

“Listen - I called them, I called my contact in the RIB while you were asleep- we needed backup, we needed someone with firepower-” Mitaka shook his head. “Why am I even apologising for this?! I called backup! They’re coming to help us!”

“I’m a Resistance agent!” Finn shouted, “The only place the RIB are gonna help me is into a jail cell!”

“Look, they won’t, I’ll tell them-”

“They think I’m a terrorist!”

“But we needed them- we needed _someone_ -”

“The RIB have only been trying to arrest me for the last _five years_ -”

Mitaka didn’t hear the shot; he only heard the impact, and then the breath as it came out of Finn’s lungs in a single shocked huff. Finn’s face went slack, then screwed up with pain. Mitaka reached for him, clutched him, saw the black mark on the white armour, the hole…

They sunk to the ground, him desperately clutching Finn. It took him a few moments to register that the person gasping, “No, _no_ ,” was him.

A shadow fell over them, and a familiar, loathsome voice said, “Probably would’ve been better not to stand around shouting ‘I’m a Resistance agent’ while wearing stormtrooper armour as a disguise, wouldn’t it?”

Mitaka raised his head and glared up at Hux. He looked very smug, standing over him with a long rifle in his hands. The mirrored chrome finish meant it could only have belonged to one person previously; Mitaka wondered if he’d stolen it from her armoury or taken it off her corpse. A metre or so behind him were Ren and Leia, the son keeping a tight grip on his mother’s arm.

“And what about you, mm? Why don’t you take off your helmet so I can look you in the eye before I kill you?”

For a second Mitaka hesitated, his thoughts on Finn, only about Finn, Finn who was gasping and moaning and _dying_ -

Then he looked up and ripped his helmet off, staring defiantly up at Hux. “Surprise,” he spat.

For a second Hux did in fact look shocked. Then his face went still and white, nostrils flaring slightly. Mitaka recognised it as a look of _real_ anger, the one that made him look like an Andrene pit-viper preparing to strike. “ _You_ ,” he hissed.

“Go ahead,” Mitaka said, spreading his arms, “Someone will get you, one day; you’ll get what’s coming, and it will be _painful_.”

“You think I’d give you a quick death?” Hux spat. “You _betrayed_ me- gave our _secrets_ to the _Republic_ -”

“And I was happy doing it!” Mitaka shouted back.

Before Hux could reply, Finn gave a wet cough and murmured, “Right now I think you have bigger problems.”

Mitaka looked back down at him, concerned, to find he was staring upward, pointing weakly with one finger. Mitaka followed it upward and saw a ship swinging in low - an old YT model. It screeched by at incredible speed, and as it did something fell from the open ramp.

Halfway down, that something ignited a long, glowing band of blue light.

“The Jedi!” Hux cried, skittering backward toward Ren. At the same moment Ren stepped forward, letting go of Leia’s arm and igniting his own red lightsaber.

A second later, Rey hit the ground with a pulse of Force that made the entire platform shudder.

As Ren ran forward to meet her, Mitaka turned his attention to Finn. He pulled off his helmet, wincing at the sweaty, pain-filled face underneath. “We need to get you back on the ship- some bacta-”

“There’s a pouch,” Finn wheezed, pawing at Mitaka’s belt. Mitaka scrambled, his hands clumsy and jittery, but he managed to get it off his belt. There were yells, starfighters swooping overhead, and lightsabers clashing together in the background, but Mitaka ignored all of that, focusing on getting the packet open and applying it to the wound.

Instantly the lines of pain on Finn’s face relaxed a little bit. “Better…” he murmured.

“Okay- let’s get you to the ship-”

“How is he?”

Mitaka looked up and blinked at Leia. “I- not good- I mean, slightly better-”

“Chewie’s coming back around in the _Falcon_ , he can get you into the medbay,” she said. “I need a hand over here.”

Mitaka turned and looked at where she was pointing, and was stunned to see Hux on the floor, unconscious. “Wha- how did you-?”

“He was distracted,” Leia said, smiling a little. “Here comes Chewie; he’ll take Finn, you grab Hux.”

Mitaka found himself agreeing and being hustled over to Hux. The sound of lightsabers clashing still echoed across the platform, but Ren and Rey were now on the other side of it, near the shuttle Finn had sabotaged. Mitaka watched them for a moment, satisfying himself that they were distracted before turning to Hux. He was disconcerted to see that Hux still had Phasma’s old gun in his hands - how had Leia knocked him out, if she hadn’t stunned him? Maybe a holdout blaster?

“Wake up, young man!” Leia shouted. Mitaka looked up to see that the _Millennium Falcon_ had landed next to the _Helios_ , and a huge Wookiee was running toward Finn. Hurriedly he lifted Hux into a fireman’s carry, grunting at the weight, and then started sprinting for the open ramp.

Halfway there he felt something slam into his back, and he and Hux both went tumbling and skidding across the platform. A second later he heard something hum over his head; he looked up to see a long lightsaber hilt clattering to the ground. Glancing back, he could see Rey and Ren struggling, Rey trying to hold onto her lightsaber while Ren tried to rip it out of her hands. Mitaka realised Ren had thrown his at Mitaka’s unprotected back, so Rey had Force-pushed him, sending him sprawling in order to avoid getting chopped in half. _First time I’ve ever been grateful for falling on my face_ , Mitaka thought, scrambling to his feet and picking up Hux under the arms, dragging his feet along the ground as he ran. As he went by, he took a second to kick out at Ren’s deactivated lightsaber, and his heart soared as the vile thing went skittering across the duracrete and disappeared into the void over the platform’s edge.

He had just about reached the ramp when Chewbacca came running back out, and lifted Hux out of his hands as easily as Mitaka might have lifted a bag of jogan fruit. He growled something that Mitaka didn’t understand, but Mitaka assumed it might be an instruction to follow him. In the ship, Chewbacca dumped Hux on the floor and then disappeared down the corridor. Mitaka followed and found himself in the medbay, where Finn was stretched out on the table with Leia hurriedly stripping off his armour while Chewbacca rifled through the medicine cabinet.

“Can you fly?” Leia snapped at him.

Mitaka nodded. “Yes, I- I’ll- I’ll just-” He made a motion back over his shoulder, then raced toward the front of the ship.

He had a single moment of sitting in the pilot’s chair and thinking _I’m about to fly the_ Millennium Falcon, before he got hold of himself and hit the engines. Out of the forward viewport, he could see Rey chasing Ren across the landing platform, slashing with her lightsaber to cut in half the crates and barrels and other items he Force-threw at her to make up for losing his lightsaber. They were some distance apart, so Mitaka felt safe to turn the ship and aim the forward cannons. The landing platform lit up as a blaze of green light raked across it and toward Ren, who promptly performed a backflip over the edge of the platform and disappeared. Mitaka turned and came in low, aiming to put the open ramp somewhere Rey could easily jump onto it; a second later he heard the muffled clang of boots on metal and saw the ‘open ramp’ light flick off. Then he heard footsteps banging up the corridor, and the Jedi swung herself into the co-pilot’s chair. “Need a hand?” she asked, already putting on the headset.

“Would love one,” he said, turning skyward and gunning the ship’s engines. “We need to get Finn to a bacta tank _now_.”

“Any ideas?”

“There’s a Republic light cruiser in orbit, it _might_ have one-” Mitaka broke off, looking at the tactical display as the _Falcon_ roared out of Arkanis’ atmosphere and into space. “But a better bet would be that capital ship that’s just dropped out of hyperspace.”

“Shall I hail them?”

“Yes - mention my name. Apparently my RIB contact was going to pass on that they should help me in any way possible.”

“Sounds like a good friend,” Rey said as she keyed the comms equipment. “Hailing them now.”

Mitaka heard a low female voice answer the call. “ _Millennium Falcon_? This is the NRS _Valorous_.”

Rey quickly explained their situation, mentioning Mitaka’s name as he’d asked.

There was a slight pause. “Sorry, _Falcon_ , say again; you have _General Hux_ on board as a captive?”

“Yes, and a badly injured man - we really need to use your bacta tank-”

“Permission granted, _Falcon_ , so long as we can take Hux into our custody.”

“Done,” Mitaka said, “See you in five, _Valorous_. _Falcon_ out.”

On the tactical display, Mitaka could see that the battle had greatly progressed while they were planetside. The First Order Star Destroyer had been taken out, either by attrition from the blockade or by the _Valorous_ as it entered the system. The victory had come at a high price for the Resistance ships, whose numbers were severely depleted. The New Republic light cruiser was also dead in space, though it looked like the problem was with its engines rather than its structural integrity; it would probably be worth patching up rather than scrapping entirely. Mitaka registered all this in a dim, distracted sort of way as he powered on full speed toward the _Valorous_ , trying to ignore the sick worry and fear in his gut. They were going to make it to the _Valorous_ and get Finn in a bacta tank, and everything would be _fine_ -

“Slow down, you’re coming in too hot,” Rey said, snapping Mitaka back into focus. He yanked back on the controls, slowing hard, but they still made a rather bumpy landing in the _Valorous’_ forward hangar bay. Instantly a team of medics was rushing toward them; Mitaka hit the button to open the ramp and heard them charge up it and toward the medbay. “They certainly don’t hang around,” Rey said, swinging up out of her chair; Mitaka hesitated for a second before following her.

The medics were already strapping Finn onto a stretcher by the time Mitaka got there, and they hustled him out of the way as they ran with it back down the ramp and out of the ship. Mitaka followed, chasing after them as they sprinted to the other side of the hangar bay, but a medic caught his shoulder as he tried to get on the hover cart with them. “Medical personnel only.”

“But-”

“You can follow them down on foot,” the medic said, as the cart began to pull away at high speed. “They probably won’t let you in for a few hours though.”

“I don’t have anything else to do,” Mitaka said, “Which way to the infirmary?”

/

Mitaka waited four hours in a corner of the infirmary office, with an increasingly concerned nurse asking if he was really alright, or if she could do anything. After an hour he explained the whole situation, the nurse’s eyes getting wider and wider as he recounted everything that had happened between the moment Baxom had entered his office and the moment he’d stepped into her infirmary. “It sounds like one of those old Rebellion stories,” she said after he’d finished.

“I guess it does sound impressive when you put it all together at once like that,” Mitaka said, “But anyway, that’s why I’m here, and that’s why I don’t really have anywhere else to go; I’m not really _supposed_ to be on this ship, you see-”

She cut him off with a pat on the shoulder. “You can stay here as long as you like.”

She eventually came back and announced that Finn was ready for visitors, before leading him through a little maze of corridors to the bacta tank room. Six of the tall, thick tubes lined the walls, all spreading a faint blue glow across the room. Only one was occupied, and there Finn floated, cradled in the bacta’s dreamy embrace. He looked relaxed; peaceful. The skin on the right side of his abdomen looked puckered and red and burnt, but it wasn’t bleeding. A medical droid was quietly humming to itself in the corner, organising medical equipment. “Will he be alright?” Mitaka asked it.

“The armour took the brunt of the impact and protected him, so there is less damage than one might usually expect,” the droid said. “Given this, it is likely he will make a good recovery, given time. Still, it was lucky he was brought to us in such good time. He has you to thank for this?”

“Yes.”

“Good. I have noticed many organics are blasé when it comes to their health; it would not do for you to become complacent.”

“Er…thanks?” The droid nodded and walked off, leaving Mitaka feeling rather like he’d just been lectured by one of his old Academy instructors.

“It must be a relief to hear he’ll be alright,” the nurse said, smiling at him.

Mitaka turned to look at the tank again, then reached out a hand, laying it on the cool glass, watching Finn as he turned over slowly in the viscous liquid. “Yes,” he said quietly. “It is.” He realised that something had been wound tight in his chest ever since the blaster bolt hit, but now it was slowly loosening, unwinding. _He’s going to be alright_ , he said to himself, and the relief was like a cool balm washing through him.

The nurse left a short time after that, but Mitaka sat down next to the bacta tank and just stayed there, letting himself be hypnotised by soft liquid sounds of the bacta and the play of blue light across the walls and floor. He didn’t really have anywhere else to be, and no one came to find him. He didn’t know how long he’d been sitting there when he heard the background hum of the engines grow slightly louder, and then the tug of the shift to hyperspace. He knew it would take a while for them to get to Coruscant, even with the _Valorous’_ top of the range hyperdrive; he wondered if someone would come by and offer him a place to sleep.

Eventually a nurse came in and found him sitting there, half-dozing with his head leaning on his hand. “There are spare beds in the next room over,” she said, and Mitaka followed her, disoriented and groggy, while she showed him where he could lie down.

He was woken by the sound of alarms. For a moment he struggled upward, reaching blindly for his sidearm and communicator, before remembering that he was on the _Valorous_ , not the _Finalizer_. He wasn’t crew here; he didn’t have a position to get into, or a job to do. The lack of activity made the sirens infinitely worse, forcing him to listen to the alarm wail on and on and do nothing to help. After a few minutes he got up and went into the bacta tank room, paranoid nerves roiling in his gut; but Finn was fine, hanging calm and serene in the bacta.

Eventually the sirens stopped, and after another ten minutes the nurse from before came in. “Are you alright, Mr Mitaka?” she asked.

“Just wondering what all that was about.”

“I’m not sure - but we weren’t under attack, I know that much.” She spread her hands apologetically. “Sorry I can’t be of anymore help.”

Mitaka assured her that it was fine, and sat down by Finn’s bacta tank again. She’d just left when another person entered the room - a senior lieutenant, if Mitaka was reading his rank plaque right. He stopped as soon as he saw Mitaka, frowning at him. “You’re still here.”

“Where else would I be?” Mitaka asked.

“With-” The officer cut himself off, looked from Mitaka to where Finn hung in the bacta tank, then walked out of the room again.

“Weird,” Mitaka commented, looking back to Finn. “There must be something internal going on,” he said to the unresponsive figure.

A moment later the lieutenant came back and motioned Mitaka towards him. “Come with me, please. The Admiral would like to see you.”

Mitaka’s gut twisted. “The Admiral?”

“Yes, the Admiral. Come on.”

The lieutenant led him a long way up and up through the ship. The general layout of the ship was similar to the designs Mitaka had been working on recently at KDY, so he worked out pretty quickly that they were heading toward the bridge, which did nothing to soothe his nerves. He felt even worse when, upon entering the bridge itself, he saw that the Admiral was someone he recognised. He’d only seen her before on holonet news channels, but he could recognise Admiral Asht as easily as any other New Republic citizen. She was a senior officer, a war hero, and according to rumours, an incredibly formidable and intimidating presence.

“Ah,” she said, turning to him, “this is the final member of the _Falcon’s_ crew, is it?”

The lieutenant nodded, but Mitaka said, “No, I- I’m not really involved. I mean, I’m not part of the Resistance.”

Asht frowned. “Who are you, then?”

“Well, I’m a ship designer at KDY- but that’s not really important. I _was_ a senior lieutenant in the First Order, and aide to General Hux-”

Asht held up her hand. “This sounds like a long story,” she said, “So we might as well sit down.”

It took Mitaka longer than he’d thought to lay out the whole tale, even when he was trying to be concise. Asht had asked his permission to record the whole thing, and when he’d finally finished she told him she wanted to send it to the Supreme Chancellor on Coruscant. “You want to send _that_ to the Chancellor?” Mitaka said.

“Yes - it explains rather neatly how we came to have Hux in our custody again.” Asht smiled a little. “It also doesn’t paint you in too bad a light, Mr Mitaka. A lot of people wouldn’t have been brave enough to attempt half of what you have in the last few days.”

Mitaka swallowed before saying, “Spite’s a good motivator, I guess.”

That made Asht laugh. “Quite. Well, I’ll have to ask you to come on with us to Coruscant; the Chancellor and the Senate might want to hear your tale in person.”

“They might want me to speak in front of the _Senate_?” Mitaka asked, feeling sick at the very thought.

“Probably not, but maybe. We’ll find a room for you in the guest quarters.” Asht stood. “It’ll be another day or two until we get there. Thank you for telling me all this, Mr Mitaka.”

“Before you go,” he said, “What were those sirens earlier?”

Asht’s expression darkened. “Somehow your companions from the _Falcon_ managed to trick their way out of confinement, and then they shot their way out of my hangar while we stopped for a course correction. It would’ve been a real coup to bring back Hux, Organa and the Jedi girl; but at least we still have one.” She nodded to him, and then left the room.

/

Mitaka spent the rest of the trip either sleeping or sitting next to Finn’s tank, watching him float unconscious in the bacta. He missed their talks, he realised. He missed playing dejarik, or watching stupid trashy holoshows. He missed Finn’s smile.

He couldn’t stop thinking about the look of betrayal in Finn’s eyes, the pain in his voice, just before the blaster bolt hit home.

It would take a day or so before he could come out of the bacta - but what would he say when he did? What would he think of Mitaka? The more he thought about it, the more Mitaka found himself dreading the moment Finn’s eyes would open, the moment they’d have to talk. The moment he’d have to face what he’d done.

Because he wanted Finn to like him, he realised - wanted to have what they’d had, wanted it to continue. Maybe even wanted it to become something else.

He jumped when a hand landed on his shoulder, and he turned to find the same senior lieutenant as before looking down at him. “We’re at Coruscant, Mr Mitaka,” he said. “There’s a shuttle waiting.”

Mitaka stared up at him, blinking. He hadn’t even felt the reversion to realspace. He looked back at Finn, and felt something heavy settle in his chest. He needn’t have spent all that time worrying about his reaction. The nurse had said this morning that Finn would still be in the bacta for at least another day; when he woke up, Mitaka would be gone.

But that was probably for the best. After what’d happened, and what with the mess Mitaka had landed him in, Finn would probably be glad to see the back of him.

“Have you got any things to collect?” the lieutenant asked.

“No,” Mitaka said, standing and stretching out his stiff legs. “No, I can go straight to the shuttle.”

/

Mitaka had been expecting that a Senate guard, or maybe an aide, would meet them on the landing pad.

He hadn’t expected to be met by Kuat’s Senator, Rusi Ondera, and Andar Kuat himself.

The head of House Kuat and director of the entirety of KDY - and, coincidentally, the boss of Mitaka’s boss’ boss - was a trim, unassuming man with a warm smile, who came over immediately to shake Mitaka’s hand. “We’ve all heard the recording, of course,” he said. “How proud we are to have someone of your calibre working at KDY, Mr Mitaka.”

“Oh yes,” Ondera said, shaking his hand as well, “Having a Kuati citizen involved in an event of such significance is a real political coup for us.”

“I’m… just glad to be of service,” Mitaka said slowly. This seemed to be enough to satisfy, and the two of them hustled him to a private airspeeder that whisked them out into the capital’s busy skylanes.

He found himself staying in a guestroom in Andar Kuat’s huge Coruscanti apartment. It was decorated with glamorous, elegant taste, beautiful enough that Mitaka in his borrowed, second-hand Resistance clothes felt a bit like something nasty the prati-cat had left on the carpet. One of the staff discreetly left him some new clothes and some money, but still he felt like an impostor. It was a relief to get out onto Coruscant’s streets, even crowded and potentially dangerous as they were. Here he could fit into the crowd, and he took the chance to gawk at all the tourist attractions and revel in the fact that nobody in the huge crowds around him knew who he was or where he’d come from.

Halfway through the week, while he was still waiting for the verdict on whether he would be needed by the Senate or not, one of the staff told him he’d received a message. “It’s from the Fobosi Medcenter. A patient is asking for you by name, I believe.”

Mitaka felt his heart beat faster, but he managed to thank her and retreat without letting it show on his face.

Of course there was only one person who could be asking for him from a medcenter on Coruscant. Mitaka looked up the address, looked up how he’d get there by airspeeder, by public transport, by pedestrian streets; he even got as far as to walk all the way to the adjacent plaza, where he could stand looking up at the six-storey building, his stomach twisting into nervous knots. _He asked for you - he wants to see you_.

_Or he just wants to give you the courtesy of telling you face to face that he never wants to see you again._

In the end, Mitaka didn’t go inside. He thought about going the next day, and the next, but the fear of seeing anger and rejection on Finn’s face rooted him to the spot. Instead he distracted himself by going out to see the sights, or shop, or try interesting restaurants - but always with that little voice of guilt whispering in his ear. He told himself he’d go the next day, he would _definitely_ go - and then Andar Kuat invited him to dinner.

“I have good news, my friend!” Andar said, greeting him in the doorway of the dining room in the apartment. “The Senate and the Chancellor are both satisfied with the recording; they’ve told me you won’t need to appear before them in person. You can go home!”

Mitaka felt something freeze in his chest, but still he managed to force a smile. “That’s… that’s excellent.”

“Of course.” Andar ushered him inside, and they sat opposite each other in the middle of the long dining table. “We’ll arrange a private ship, of course,” he said. “And I’ve straightened everything out with your office back home. They were getting quite worried, you know.”

“Thank you, Lord Kuat, for everything,” Mitaka said.

“Not at all, not at all.” Andar’s eyes flicked over his face, and he added, “I get the sense that you haven’t been entirely happy here, anyway.”

Mitaka blinked; he hadn’t realised his feelings had been that obvious. _I can’t tell him about Finn_. Admitting he was too scared to visit the man who’d saved him, who’d helped him through the entire affair- he could just imagine the look of contempt that would produce. He cast about for another excuse. “It… seems unfair,” he said slowly, “I get to spend a week on Coruscant, staying in your beautiful apartment and essentially having a vacation, while the others, the Resistance members…”

Andar was nodding. “Yes, I understand.”

“They were the ones who really put this in motion; they’re the ones who should be credited.”

Andar hesitated for a second before saying, “I should not be telling you this, Mr Mitaka… but I do not believe the Resistance will survive much longer. We have heard reports of their forces fracturing, and two days ago one faction supposedly leaked the location of one of the Resistance’s main bases openly on the holonet. Apparently the Navy had to scramble to get ships there before the First Order.”

Mitaka’s insides felt cold. “A base in the far Outer Rim?”

“That sounds like it, yes. I believe the Resistance members were rescued safely, but there may have been a skirmish with the First Order.”

“Which might be all they need to reignite the war,” Mitaka said quietly.

“Yes.” Andar’s smile was grim. “But all the reason to get you back to Kuat, no? We need you and your team designing those warships. I might drop by sometime; I’m very interested in that new engine design you’ve been playing with.”

“It would be an honour to have you,” Mitaka said, his mouth working on autopilot. In his head he saw the base he’d visited with Finn being raked with orbital cannon fire, and felt too sick to eat anything else.

/

He was a minor celebrity for a few weeks after he arrived back on Kuat, especially in his office. They had been wondering for over a week why he’d disappeared with no contact, and getting progressively more worried; Mitaka was rather touched to find they were so happy to have him back. His boss did confide that he’d been contacted by the RIB, who’d let him know the rough details of the story, but he hadn’t been able to share it with anyone else. Being recognised on the street was even stranger, and got especially weird when the Senate announced that he was to be honoured with a civilian medal for bravery at an upcoming award ceremony next month.

Mitaka spent a long time scouring the holonet for more news on the story Andar Kuat had told him, but he could find nothing about the attack on the Outer Rim Resistance base. He kept seeing more and more horrific visions of what the First Order could’ve done, the destruction they could’ve rained down on that peaceful base, to the point where it made it hard to sleep.

And more than anything, as much as he tried not to, he thought about Finn. He wished his thoughts wouldn’t keep circling back to him; wished he hadn’t left things the way he had. Wished he’d plucked up the damn courage to walk into that medcenter and face talking to him, no matter what he had to say. Didn’t he owe Finn that much? Of course he did - but he’d been too cowardly to do it, and he hadn’t left any way for Finn to contact him, so Finn would probably assume he didn’t want to be contacted. Mitaka felt stupid for letting his fear convince him to walk away so quickly, and even more than that he felt guilty for almost certainly landing Finn in jail.

He’d kept the Resistance clothes Finn had lent him, despite attempts from Andar Kuat’s staff to burn them; he felt like he needed a memento that was more than just memories. He was debating whether or not to wash them - a stupid decision, but they’d been Finn’s clothes and they still smelled like Finn, and at that thought Mitaka resolved to _definitely_ wash them, because trying to keep Finn’s _smell_ was just stupid. But when he lifted the shirt, something fell out of the front pocket. As he picked it up, he remembered what it was; the datastick with all the First Order intel he’d downloaded.

For a moment Mitaka stared at it; then he put through a call to Officer Matsgoa.

/

Matsgoa agreed to meet him in a small cafe just off one of the station’s main streets. He was a big, thickset human man in his late fifties, and he looked slightly confused as he sat down at the table across from Mitaka. “You have more surprises up your sleeve, Mr Mitaka?” he asked, taking a sip of his caf.

“Just one,” Mitaka said, and held up the datastick.

Matsgoa’s gaze sharpened. “Intel?” he asked.

“Didn’t have time to break into the encrypted files, but the Hux mansion had an uncensored connection to the First Order network, so I downloaded everything I could. I believe some of it would be of interest to the RIB.”

Matsgoa regarded him suspiciously. “Since you haven’t handed it to me, I guess you want something for it.”

“If you can; you might not be able to help.” Mitaka took a deep breath. “It’s about Finn, the man who helped me recapture Hux. We had to leave him in a Republic bacta tank, but he’s a Resistance member, so he’s probably under arrest or in jail now.”

“Amnesty?” Matsgoa asked.

“And citizenship,” Mitaka said. “He was born in the First Order, like me. I know it might be impossible, but- I landed him in that situation, officer. I have to at least try to get him out.”

Matsgoa’s gaze was hungry as he eyed the datastick. “You’re certainly bargaining with the right tools, Mr Mitaka. What with the sudden increase in tensions, any First Order intel commands a high premium.” He nodded decisively and stood up. “I’ll see what I can do. In the meantime, keep that datastick safe.”

“Of course,” Mitaka said, and then Matsgoa was gone.

For two weeks he heard nothing; then Matsgoa contacted him for a meeting.

They sat down in a different tapcaf this time. “Well, good news bad news, I’m afraid,” Matsgoa said. “Turns out your boy would’ve been getting his amnesty anyway.”

“What?”

“The higher-ups have been doing a mighty good job of keeping the information suppressed, but the Resistance has been crashing and burning for the last month or so, ever since the incident with Hux. Now the Republic’s decided it will be offering certain members of the less _radical_ factions full amnesty - so long as they agree to sign on with the Republic Navy, of course.”

“The Resistance is fracturing and they’re coming in to mop up the pieces,” Mitaka said flatly.

“Exactly. Quite a few of the Navy’s best left to join the Resistance, especially after the Accords, and now the war’s about to be back on, the Navy wants them back. But I _did_ manage to get the second part of your order…” Matsgoa handed Mitaka a datapad. “There you have it; Republic citizenship. Whether he takes the Republic’s deal or not, he now has full rights as a New Republic citizen.”

Mitaka flicked the datapad on, and after a moment of flicking through the electronic pages he looked back up at Matsgoa and smiled. “Thank you,” he said; then he handed over the datastick. “As always, use it wisely.”

“Absolutely,” Matsgoa said, tucking it into an inside pocket in his coat. “Well, I’ll have to take my leave, Mr Mitaka. Let me know if there’s anything else I can do for you.”

“Thank you, Officer. Oh, and I’m sorry, by the way. About Baxom.”

Matsgoa shrugged, but his expression turned sorrowful. “Nothing you could’ve done, Mitaka. ‘Sides, Baxom would’ve liked nothing more than to die in the field. Man didn’t have much of a personal life.”

“I see. Well, still, I’m sorry he’s gone.” Mitaka stood, and the two of them shook hands before Matsgoa took his leave.

Mitaka walked slowly back to his apartment, feeling a sort of bittersweet happiness. He’d done something useful with the datastick, something that would help Finn; but it wouldn’t get him out of the choice between jail and service in the Navy, and it wouldn’t make up for refusing to see him on Coruscant, or bring them back into contact.

 _If Finn even wants to contact you_ , said a little voice in his head. _More likely he never wants to speak to you again_.

Mitaka gripped the datapad harder. Even if that was the truth - at least he’d done something to try and make it right.

/

He woke to the sound of his doorbell.

He sat up, realising he’d fallen asleep on the couch in front of some crime drama. The grating chime of the doorbell came again as he glanced at the chrono and frowned. _Who the hell is at my door at half past two in the morning?_

“Coming,” he muttered, dragging himself up off the couch and toward the door. He opened it, then for a second considered slamming it immediately closed; luckily he curbed the instinct before his hand could trigger the controls.

Finn looked exhausted, almost haggard. He was wearing a Republic Navy uniform, which answered the question about whether he’d taken their deal or gone to prison. “Hey,” he said softly.

“Hello,” Mitaka managed to spit out. Not knowing what else to say, he stepped back, silently inviting Finn inside. Finn came in, closing the door behind him, while Mitaka switched on some proper lights and turned off the holoshow that was still playing.

“Sorry,” Finn said, “I know it’s two am-”

“It’s okay,” Mitaka said, cutting him off. He floundered for a minute before falling back on standard pleasantries. “Do you want, er, a glass of water or something?”

“Yeah,” Finn said. Mitaka motioned him toward the small dining table, and he sat down heavily as Mitaka disappeared into the kitchen.

He stopped and leant against the counter in the darkness, his fingernails digging into the wood. _Breathe. Breathe. Okay. Now, go back out there and tell him you’re an idiot and you’re sorry, very sorry_.

He came back and set the two glasses on the table, but Finn spoke before he could. “I’m sorry for barging in here like this,” he said quietly, “I understand if you don’t want to talk, but-” He stopped suddenly, seeming to struggle to articulate what he wanted to say. After a moment he just took a datapad out of his pocket and laid it on the table.

Mitaka reached over and flicked it on, and saw that it was Finn’s copy of the Republic citizenship documents that Matsgoa had acquired for him. “I asked my contact to try and get you amnesty without…” Mitaka motioned to Finn’s uniform, “But he couldn’t, unfortunately.”

“I guess I don’t get it,” Finn said. He folded his arms and sat back in his chair, giving Mitaka a long, assessing look. “You never came to the medcentre, and you didn’t leave a comm number - but then you do this?”

Mitaka shifted awkwardly. “I had to- I landed you in this situation. With the Republic, I mean. I had to try and make up for it somehow.”

“Yeah, I’m still not clear what happened,” Finn said. “I remember getting taken into the medbay on the _Falcon_ , but then everything goes fuzzy.”

“You needed a bacta tank, so I flew us to the _Valorous_ ,” Mitaka said. “I’m sorry, I completely didn’t think- I should’ve _known,_ I should’ve remembered.”

“At least I didn’t die,” Finn said, the ghost of a smile flashing over his face.

“You got _arrested_.”

“Might’ve ended up that way anyway, given what’s happening now,” Finn said, his mouth twisting.

“That’s not the point-”

“None of the Resistance ships there had a proper bacta tank, not like the one I needed,” Finn cut in. “You saved my life by taking me to that Republic ship. There was nothing else you could’ve done.”

They sat in silence for a few seconds before Mitaka said, “Even if I give you that - I still betrayed your trust, by calling the Republic in the first place.”

“We might not have beaten the First Order without their help.”

“Again, not the point. However it turned out in the end, I betrayed your trust. I said I wouldn’t go behind your back and I did. And I’m sorry.” He took another deep breath and added, “And I’m sorry I didn’t come to see you on Coruscant. That was- it was just cowardly of me. I was afraid you would hate me, or yell at me.”

Finn scratched the back of his neck. “I probably would’ve yelled.”

“And you would’ve been right to!”

“No, you saved my life-”

“The medteam saved your life, Finn. It was pure chance that I made it to the pilot’s seat before Rey, otherwise she would’ve been the one who flew the _Falcon_ to the _Valorous._ ”

“Would she have known the bacta tank I needed would be on that capital ship?”

“I would’ve told her.”

“Then you still would’ve been the one putting me and the medteam together, so you definitely had a _hand_ in the whole life-saving.”

Mitaka let out a huff of irritation. “ _Arrested_ , Finn.”

“Better arrested than dead.” When Mitaka just glared at him, Finn sighed. “Listen, I was angry at first. Real angry. Man, I had some _words_ planned when I made that request for you to come see me.”

“I should’ve come, you should’ve gotten to- no, you should say them now-”

Finn held up a hand. “No. Things have changed since then. I was mad, and I stewed, and you never showed, so I got mad some more. But then I got the first visit from the naval officers. They explained how the Resistance was falling apart, and how I had a choice to make, between jail or navy-”

“I know,” Mitaka interrupted, “They told me.”

“Right. So, I didn’t believe them at first, figured it was just Republic propaganda. But then they let me out into a kind of temporary prison, and I see all these people from the Resistance, and they keep bringing in more of them every day. And some of them sign the deal, y’know? I think a few of them were New Republic before the Accords, so I guess they figure since the Republic’s going to war again they might as well go back where they came.” Finn heaved a heavy sigh. “Then Leia came in to talk to us. They didn’t keep her in the prison, but she said she’d convinced them to let her come in and have a meeting with us.” He ran a hand over his face and didn’t speak for a moment. “The minute I saw her face I knew it was over. No more Resistance. I think the others all knew, too, though some of them didn’t want to admit it. I mean, just the fact that she was there, working with the Republic, and not out there shoring up the Resistance… anyway. She explained the facts, and right at the end she said, ‘You’re all more use to the galaxy out there than in a prison cell. Remember that.’ And then she left. I took their deal the next day.”

“I’m sorry,” Mitaka said quietly.

“It’s not so bad. It’s just like the Resistance but more rules, right?” For a second Finn looked worried. “I mean, the Navy is- there’s not some hidden secret about them that you’re not telling me, right? Cause you look so sad every time I mention it-”

“The Navy is fine. I mean, I work with them nearly every week, and I haven’t wanted to kill any of their officers enough to do it yet, so.”

“That’s not so reassuring.”

“Hey, I grew up in the First Order. My bar for acceptable living standards is extremely low.”

That finally made Finn laugh. “Yeah, same. Though other people have tried to convince me it should be higher.”

“If it works, why change it?” Mitaka gestured around his apartment. “This would be palatial for a First Order starship designer. _And_ I don’t have to work ten hour shifts, and I get paid a decent wage. I really take time to appreciate that.”

“They handed out fourteen and sixteen hour shifts as punishments for stormtroopers,” Finn said.

“Whereas the Resistance just made you _want_ to do sixteen hour shifts.”

Finn laughed again. “In the Resistance you practically woke up on shift.”

“Already the Navy is better, then.”

They smiled at each other for moment before Mitaka said, “It’s not the Navy that’s the problem - it’s the fact that you had no choice in whether you wanted to join up or not. If you’d _wanted_ to do it, I would’ve been happy for you.”

“Well, I _do_ want to fight the First Order, and if I have to be in the Republic Navy to do that, it’s fine by me.” He smiled gently. “I’ll be alright. You don’t have to worry about me.”

 _I think I’ll worry about you no matter how much you tell me not to,_ Mitaka thought, but he didn’t voice it. “I just feel like maybe you’re letting me off too lightly.”

“I’m not letting you off - I’m forgiving you.”

“They’re synonyms.”

“No, ‘letting you off’ implies you’re getting away with no consequences,” Finn said, grinning at him.

Mitaka felt sudden nerves churn in his stomach. “And what does that mean, exactly?”

“It means you’re going to promise not to run away without leaving a comm number again, _especially_ if I actually _ask_ you to talk to me. Even if you know I’m going to yell.”

The nerves were all replaced by warmth. That implied Finn at least imagined they would talk in the future - maybe even be friends. “Of course. I promise.”

“Good. Then it’s settled.”

Mitaka shook his head. “Not quite. You said you were so mad before, but- what changed?”

“I took some time to think. I had some conversations with friends, with Rey, with General Organa. They made me see something important.” Finn smiled at him, an expression which set something fluttering in Mitaka’s chest. “You didn’t betray me just so you could stick a knife in my back. You didn’t rat me out for your own gain. You were actually just trying to _help_ me. That’s why I can forgive you; because you didn’t do it to screw me over.”

“The wrong action in support of the right reason,” Mitaka said.

“Got it in one.”

“I suppose that does make sense,” Mitaka said quietly.

Finn tapped the datapad on the table between them. “Then that arrived. I didn’t know what it was at first, but General Organa assured me that they’re valuable _and_ very hard to get for those born in the First Order. She said you must have pulled some major strings to get that done so fast.”

“I downloaded all the First Order intel I could while you were disabling the shield generator,” Mitaka admitted, “Then I traded it for that.”

“I guess that would do it.”

After a moment of silence Mitaka asked, “Are you stationed on the _Aspiration_?”

“How’d you know?”

“I know she’s leaving tomorrow - I’ve been invited to the launch ceremony. So I just guessed.”

“You worked on her?”

“Helped design the engines,” Mitaka said.

“They any good?” Finn asked, grinning.

“I’ll have you know they’re the best we’ve ever made.”

“Seems like I’ll be in good hands, then.”

“I hope so.”

Mitaka punctuated another awkward silence by saying, “Look, it’s pretty late - you could stay here, if you want, rather than going back to wherever your stationed.”

“I don’t even know where I’m stationed,” Finn said ruefully. “We got off the transport, went out for drinks, and I stayed in the bar until I decided to come here.”

Mitaka couldn’t help a wince. “Oh no. Now I’m imagining you alone in some bar, drowning your sorrows…”

Instead of laughing, Finn looked rueful. “That’s pretty much it, yeah.”

Mitaka frowned. “Finn, I’m sorry-”

“It’s okay,” Finn cut in. He grinned and said self-deprecatingly, “I must have looked pretty miserable; this guy even came up to me and asked-” He cut off, suddenly looking awkward.

“Asked what?”

For a long moment Finn just looked at him without speaking, and Mitaka couldn’t read his expression. He felt nerves start up in his stomach again, fluttering around like angry birds.

“He asked who’d broken my heart,” Finn said quietly.

“What- what did you say?” Mitaka asked, his voice barely a whisper.

Finn paused for a long moment before saying, “I described this gorgeous guy- little hesitant, sometimes, and he’s got a hell of a sharp tongue, but he’s always brave when it counts-”

Mitaka was out of his chair before he even thought about it. “Finn, I didn’t mean to- I didn’t want-”

Finn was out of his chair too, and round the table, and he didn’t let Mitaka get another word out. Finn kissed him like he’d been waiting to do it since the moment they’d met; Mitaka kissed him back desperately, letting Finn crush them together, forgetting anything outside of the two of them. They came up for air and then went right back in again, and now Mitaka was pressed up against the wall, Finn kissing his mouth and his neck, catching his lip between his teeth-

“Do you- do you want-” Finn asked, breathless, and Mitaka just nodded, leading him blindly back to the bedroom.

It was fast, desperate; the realisation of something both of them had wanted but never dared to say. Mitaka didn’t know when he’d fallen for Finn, couldn’t pinpoint the exact moment, but it all came to a head right then, in those stolen minutes of hot skin against skin, Finn’s mouth on his, his hands everywhere and the two of them, moving so slow and searing and delicious together.

Later, his head pillowed on Finn’s chest, Mitaka whispered, “You’re leaving tomorrow.”

Finn kissed the top of his head. “I’m coming back. And it’s only three weeks.”

“A very long three weeks.”

“I’ll think of ways to make it up to you.” Finn’s arms tightened around him. “I’ll have a week of furlough. Lots of time.”

Mitaka smiled to himself, and leant up to kiss him. “I hope you’re good at being creative, then.”

“If I’m not, I can rely on the fact that I’m a handsome prince, right?” Finn asked, waggling his eyebrows.

“I cannot _believe_ you’re teasing me about that now.”

“It was cute!”

Mitaka shoved him, and Finn laughed, rolling them over and pressing hot, lingering kisses to his mouth.

**Author's Note:**

> Title is from "Everything Has Changed" by Ed Sheeran and Taylor Swift; the quote in the summary is from "The Kite Runner" by Khaled Hosseini.


End file.
